The Restitution of Edmond Dantes
by Miss Urey Es Chosen
Summary: A continuation of the story after the anime ends. Edmond/Albert. Rated Mature for sex, strong language, and minor violence. Many spoilers - this fiction assumes you have completed all the episodes.
1. Chapter 1

Time froze on the ethereal plane; it's slowing marked by a light of rouge and hazy pink. A tall figure, shrouded in black, parted the colors with a silken boney finger. He moved between the moments, inhaling the spaces between the falling bits of sand in his hourglass.

After the deep breath of the air, which is exhaled upon the death of a mortal, he sighed, a sound that escaped not only through his bare teeth but his eye sockets and cracked cheeks as well. This air, this particular death, had a bitter and musky sort of sent, hot as the coils of cooling rage, and he instantly recognized it as the mark of a man consumed by Gankutsuou.

Leaning upon his reaper, taller even than he, the figure pulled a clipboard from within his robes, the fabric thereafter settled around his feet in an archaic motionless perfection. At the top of a fresh page he wrote the words _Edmond Dantes._

The condemned man, mentioned above, woke several moments later to a shadow over his already blurred vision. It was bobbing as its owner single-mindedly scratched out notes with an ominous black pen. The sound of its tip meeting paper was muted, however, by that of raised voices, one of which, he thought he knew.

"What are you talking about? Humans are the epitome of corruption and greed, as easy to turn against the other as dogs quarreling over meat. A little temptation, and they are no more then ravenous beats." The cavern king bellowed from somewhere above.

"The answer is no." Echoed an equally formidable voice. It resonated, as if from the roof of a cathedral, yet hissed - as if suffocated.

He strained to see the two, but a terrible light blinded him, even as his vision cleared. Startled by the ferocious glow he groaned and guarded his eyes.

"Every time one of my hosts dies we come to this: I see what these mortals do, what these humans do, and you deny me?! For encouraging my friend to do no differently than the rest of his species?"

"We had a deal. You have not learnt what it is to be human. If you find them so reprehensible, I fail to understand your obsession with this quest."

Edmond sat up, put two hands out before him to feel the floor and remember what he had been doing a moment ago. He found cold and wet beneath him, and a slippery and staining texture. Squinting at the substance on his fingers he saw red, wet, sticky, and dull.

For some reason, which eluded him, the sight of his own blood was not all that alarming. Instead Edmond examined it through the cruel light with a morbid fascination. This warmth on his hand, from this liquid that made life possible, had never shined as brightly as it did now. It sparkled as if there were galaxies giving birth to stars from within it.

"Where…where am I?" He eventually asked.

A snap answered him and the light muted behind the door of a silver lantern.

"There are many advantages to having a body." Gankutsuo grinned, his eight eyes narrowing with glee. "Particularly when you can make it immortal."

"Hm." Death wheezed, dust puffing out from his mouth, "right, and thus far you've done a fantastic job of keeping those bodies alive. This is what, the second man this century? Your capacity for maintaining this 'immortality' amazes me."

Edmond looked to his knees, they to were covered in blood, and the source, readily visible now, made him panic even less than the blood on his fingertips. He, his body anyways, lay dead beside him, and around him the walls of his garden, his sanctuary, were crumbling. Well, at least they would have been crumbling if time would tick on. Instead the broken eye above was suspended in its shattering, the earth waited patiently, and silently, to continue tearing itself apart. The waters raged, standing perfectly still.

"The point isn't to keep the host alive." Gankutsuou chided, "If their bodies weren't so fragile…"

"They wouldn't be human." Death finished with a fleshless snarl.

A ship, in the broken pink sky, hovered in it's frozen state. Edmond fixed his attention to it, understanding taking hold.

"I see," he interjected into the quarreling god's conversation, "So…I have been slain."

"Yes, officially dead as of," the death god glanced at his hourglass, "twelve minutes ago. Just have some paper work and we'll be on our way."

"Our way?" Edmond repeated, his thoughts dissecting the statement, "where? Hell?"

The hard bits of Deaths' shoulder bone shrugged from beneath the blackened garment, "don't know. I'm not the judge, just the manual labor."

"Than labor me into my own body!" Gankutsuou shouted - a bellow of a sound.

"I've told you more times than I can count, a demon can not become human, even one as staggering as Gankutsuou, until they understand what that means."

"Oh? I understand perfectly." The purple thing grinned. "This human and I had a brilliant accord."

Death ignored him, his pen flowing without ebb. Its noise tangled with Edmond's mind as he stared into the face of his body, his body without the demon: tan skin of the Mediterranean, hair of simple but regal black, a peaceful smile caressing his lips; the wounds of a killing kiss. It scared his mind like the sounds of the quill pen scarring paper.

Hell would be fitting….for all he'd done…

The pen stopped, and death floated before him.

"Everything is fate. Nothing is chance."

"I know." Edmond muttered. Love, that cold and pitiless mechanism, felt heavy inside of him, and threatened to break him once again.

"It's a shame" the hissing intruded upon his thoughts, "that you only remembered how to feel at your end... such a pity."

"'Feeling killed him!" The cavern king cackled, "It's a 'pity' he embraced it in his weakness. I could have saved him, made him perfect and without flaw!"

"Before we go," Death persisted, ignoring the exasperating entity behind him, "I am curious as to how you justify what you have done to the ones you've loved."

"Justify?!" Gankutsuo howled, answering for his symbiotic host. "JUSTIFY?! Humans CREATED him! Humans MADE him! The ones he loved are responsible for who he is now!"

"WRONG!" Death whirled about. "You, you miserable fool, you are responsible for his lost chance. Do you think the universe so totally cruel? He could not see truth from without your clutches. The innocent boy, he was a gift. The scarred and devoted pale girl, his loyal companions who loved him, they were all chances to reclaim the emptiness within and fill that treacherous loneliness! But you poisoned him into ignorance!"

"He would not have escaped The Château D`if without me! How can it be my fault he lost his chance when it was I who led him to the boy in the first place?!"

"It is not your fault." Edmond mumbled mildly, "I blackened my heart on my own, and desired my revenge long before our meeting. It was I who broke with Albert, even when he begged only to be at my side."

"No human can resist the darkness that is Gankutsuou." Death countered, "I, in my limited omniscience, have seen his work many times. I cannot know what the gods of judgment have in store for you now, but I'm sure they will consider the circumstances that led you here. I, however, will not allow you, Gankutsuou to relive this cycle again. This is the last human life you will destroy. And that, like all reincarnation of immortals, is my jurisdiction."

The demon, he who radiates menace and laps up despair, froze and turned all of his eyes onto Death. "What are you saying?"

"I will not grant you return to the human realm. You have failed and will be sent back to hell, condemned to life as the king of shadows and caverns - as you have proven yourself to be."

"You arrogant mouse." He growled, lunging forward to stand inches from death's face. "To be human is to breed pain! It is so, and that is all I have learned! I, whatever you may say, understand them better than you or any stoic god who judges souls!"

"Oh?" Death chuckled. "Is that so?"

"Yes…how else do you explain it: the ease with which I can twist them?"

Edmond finally ventured an effort in standing, his gaze always returning to the ship. So… Albert had been his karma. And, karma, in its irony, had led him to inflict the same betrayal he had suffered on his last chance of happiness.

"I wonder," he spoke the words slowly, directing them at no one in particular. "Can I still feel guilt? Do I even feel remorse?"

He placed a hand over his chest, as if the action would better help him read his own emotions.

The reaper of souls, intrigued, quietly peered into his notes. After a moment he reached once more within his shroud, and produced a glowing golden spire. He looked from it, to Edmond, and back again.

"I wonder, Death, just who is going to drag me back?" Gankutsuou boiled, "I may need you to be reincarnated into a body of my own, but there are other ways, and other humans I can possess. Do you suppose yourself strong enough to force me to do your will? What would happen, I wonder, if I decided to stop playing by your rules?"

"Light extinguishes shadows easily enough." Death sneered, tapping at his lantern, "but hold your tongue for a moment…and listen to what I have to say. You, Edmond; it seems fate has had an interest in you, and perhaps this isn't done…what would you say, if I was to offer you yet another chance?"

"What do you mean?" the demon purred, "What is it that you hold?"

Geometric designs covered the object's surface in glowing gold, deep cut reliefs of black and blue inlaid gems gleamed from within carved words from a long dead language. Its light resonated against the bare and brittle fingers of the death god's hands, creating whispers.

"This is a piece of fate. I receive one every year, from the all-mightiest, to use on whomever I see fit. I can use it to mend your body and send you back."

"I think," Edmond immediately answered, "that boy who was lost not a fortnight ago, Franz, may have been a better recipient for your generosity."

Death's hood tilted, the white of his face gleamed beneath it. "He was ready, and his sacrifice will surely earn him peace. Why waste such a gift on those who have paradise already? Your circumstances, and this demon, equally contributed to who you became as much you yourself did. You may not be granted reincarnation, should you turn me down, and so Edmond Dantes, this may be your last chance for redemption."

"And me?" the demon urged. "What of me?"

"You would both awaken, in an unbroken body."

"No." Edmond shook his head firmly. "It's pointless."

"Even in your vengeance you brought around some good, destroying criminals and paving the way for a new civilization to flourish." Death breathed in, a long low hiss, "I believe you will do much more."

"The good I've done cannot outweigh the harm."

"Then why, I wonder, did one such as Albert love you?"

The question silenced him, but it did not quiet Gankutsuou, "And my powers? Our immortality?"

"Restored, but under one condition. Edmond will have the control. He will retain his human heart, and accept only help from you at his discretion. I will grant to him my light, and if he chooses he could cast you out, or live forever as an immortal and your partner. If he chooses to die later, I will we will see if you have reformed and earned humanity of your own."

"I said no." Edmond repeated, sternness in his voice. "You expect me to reform Gankutsuou as well as myself? To what end?"

"To do good with this priceless opportunity. Immortality: merely by harboring Gankutsuou within you, even if you never access his other talents, could make you the eternal keeper of the universe. If you heal your own gentle heart, perhaps you will see why I think it worthy."

"My friend!" The demon grabbed the arms of the other man, "this is our chance. These fools think that a little love from a teenager will sooth your rage, that a few good deeds will change the truth about humanity. If we prove them wrong again, and we become all powerful together, I could change the physical world, and make it truly great!"

Edmond cocked a pessimistic eyebrow, pushing the demons hands off of his form. He stepped back into the bloody pool by his damaged corpse; the star-studded liquid coated his boots. "Your immortality, as I recall, came with a price. Crystallization of my body, loss of appetite and sleep, and hardening my heart to all emotion."

The demon growled in frustration. "That is the deal I chose to make with you! I am the king of shadows, the cavern dweller, what did you expect?! Did you believe I have no other abilities, that there was no other way? Within our last deal I intended to have your body for myself, but this time we will work as one. I'll make you as vampire once more, yes, but this time you will hold your heart, not I. Ageless and beautiful, you'll be preserved forever! And those pills, we can keep those pills for you! You will never need to feed on actual flesh!"

"I am not going to help you," He promised with violent determination.

"If you don't," Gankutsuou whispered, loudly enough for Death to hear, "we will see which god is the stronger. Your friend Albert is ripe with misery. …Perhaps he would make a good host."

"Death won't let you."

"And do you really want to test weather or not he can stop me?"

"Why?" Edmond recoiled, "Why me? If you could take another body, why do you want me?"

"Take the deal, or I will take Albert." He snapped, tremendous in his threat.

Defeated, with a look that would have crushed steal, he gave in "Fine."

Death nodded, taking a step towards the human body. The glowing purple spirit began a happy dance in the blood. A grin parted his fanged teeth and his feet continued to trace rejoicing circles in the glittering red.

"Yes, this will do very well. You're will, and you're heart, are so deliciously strong! A body's only worth is the power of the soul, and I know this death god is wrong. You and I will once again hear the crescendo of our nightmare opera."

Sand fell once more as Death continued his work with other nearby souls. Mortals, unaware of the hiccupping time, strode forward in their lives.

Above the French countryside rain bombarded the ship that shot forth from wreckage. Water drenched the fires at the number thirty château and mingled with smoke.

Sirens blared and public servants manned their stations to battle the flames and the destruction they birthed. But, in the commotion, no one noticed a broken man, with symbols glowing on his forehead, crawl from beneath rubble into the downpour of the heartless rain of Paris.


	2. Chapter 2

Strange… the feeling in this room. We have escaped, we're alive, and now, having left behind the world of the would-be Count of Monte Cristo, it is raining. Droplets are tapping on the window and no one speaks. Baptistine looks shocked, Haydee is pale, and I imagine my face is ill with despair.

It isn't until much later that I'm told I looked calm, as if I did not yet understand that my father, and the all important man, had died and left the world. There is so much loss, its so heavy that my face and body are unable to move.

My mind drifts to Franz, to my mother (she is not well in the corner), and always to memory of the eyes of the man who changed me. So much human suffering is permanent in my mind, and for the first time, since all of this started, I begin to understand the kind of obsession that can lead to the madness of hate…I finally understand him. My soul will forever ache for that last smile, those last kind words, and I know I'll never forget.

Confusion, my bedfellow since that first fateful day on Luna, will walk alone with me for the rest of my life. It's all he left to me.

…No, not all. There is also the word, the name Edmond, and in it, perhaps, a little hope.

Haydee, naturally, is the first to crack. Her magnificence peels away as she collapses into Ali's arms. Her kimono swells out like a balloon as she falls, grasping her legs snuggly once more as she finds the floor.

Everything is slow.

Baptistine limps to her side. He is the next to cry. But, despite the relentless desire to join them, I do not.

The bags beneath my eyes feel heavy and raw. Just as the skies of Paris pour out over the rooftops and streets, at Edmond's side, I have already poured out everything within me, and am left empty. Part of me is gone. My innocence, that feelings of elation and awe, the eagerness to see tomorrow, they are buried under the rubble with the body of the man I loved.

I don't think I could bear to loose Eugenie, after all of this. But god these feelings... I almost resent that she is somewhere in this world, waiting anxiously by a phone, praying that the count is dead.

* * *

Edmond clutched his wound and rested against the side of a stone building. Watery evidence of his torn flesh drenched the white of his shirt, but his body held together, mended by a magnificent power that made the demon within him coo.

He panted as the drain above drenched his pants. The water fell like a bed-sheet draping down in the wind, full of holes and reflected lights. It separated the dry world from the wet, straight down and flat from the building's overhang.

"We have done it!" Gankutsuou roared. "We live my friend! And your despised enemies are ruined or dead! That foolish immortal has unleashed us back upon the world and we are free to move about it!"

"I must hide." Edmond thought to him. "there are many who would recognize me."

"I very much doubt that!" The spirit clicked. "Your body shows no traces of my presence, well, besides your fangs and ears! Death's gift has made you even more powerful than I could have hoped. Here, rest within and let me drag our body to your servants. I wish to see if I will still manifest upon your brow."

"No." he took several moments to gain his footing before standing to his full and impressive height. "They deserve some peace, now that things have ended."

The demon snorted. "How do you plan to make amends if you avoid them? However will you heal that 'poor' little heart or yours all alone?"

He tilted his face up towards the sky, allowing the rain to slip down his cheeks. It wetted his ashen hair, straightening it.

"It is better that I remain dead to them."

"…And the wealth?!"

"Thiers. "

Gankutsuou shuddered, had that damn boy done more damage than he'd expected? "And what of the innocent? You will leave him to suffer your memory for the rest of his life?"

"…Albert…more than any needs me to remain dead. It is kinder this way."

In the night, in the cold and wet of the storm, on the cobblestone streets, Edmond began to shake. The gutters covered the asphalt with little rivers and lakes, and the red from his stained shirt ran with them, diluting and mixing into clear.

Gankutsuou's mouth hung open in surprise. Money was no problem, it was easy to get, but this change did not at all suit his goals. Kindness? When had such a thing crept in between them, had that one fateful fight, that kiss, that awakening really caused this? And what leverage would he hold over the mind of a man who would give up his desires for another?

"My friend," he began, "we have a deal. You may be the master, but the immortality is mine to give, and I am only bound to you until death. Let us be clear. You will see, in time, that kindness will gain you nothing. I see it in your thoughts. Your memories of betrayal and maddening captivity are as potent now as ever. You once said to me, you will remember, that it is my task to prevent the past from repeating. I intend to uphold that promise, regardless of new oaths."

Edmond extended a reassuring smile. It was no shock that that Gankutsuo was disturbed. With his goals completed, his vengeance furtive and blossoming, and nothing more to achieve; he had no reason to go on. There was nothing after vengeance; which is why he had promised his body to the monster in the first place.

It must have been a terrifying prospect for one such as Gankutsuou - a man with nothing to gain.

He gasped, and doubled over, startling the demon. A pain in his belly that he had not felt for ages rumbled within him, pushing on the walls of his stomach with a growling insistence. A few moments passed, and he grew more accustom to the ache.

"When," he wondered allowed, "was the last time I felt hunger?"

"In the Château D'if." Gankutsou snickered, eager for the opportunity to remind him. "General Morcerf would have been happier if it had taken you to your life then, before that little boy's kiss, I think. Perhaps he wouldn't have killed himself if Albert had let me walk away tonight…he could have experienced the same ruin you did…for years and years. In a way, the boy ruined your plans."

The attempt to insight new rage within him failed. "Well, I'll need a change of cloths before I can worry about food. If anyone sees me they'll call an ambulance…or the authorities."

Fog rolled up from the streets as Edmond Dantes took his first tentative steps into the cold.

* * *

It's been three days now. Three days since my father and Edmond died. I'm starting to wonder.

They died for such stupid reasons I think as I brood out the window of our hotel room. The leaves are turning dismal colors in the courtyard, and the grass is not as green. Everything has changed.

I think to myself that even if things had ended differently, with the Count living on with someone else at his side…I could never take that someone away from him. This hurts too much to do it to another.

Yet, both the men who claimed to value my mother beyond all else found no issue in stealing away the ones she loved.

I catch the urge to cry and strangle it.

Franz told me once, when I struggled with my feelings for my fiancé, that I would know real love when it hit. Real love is fraught with selflessness, and looking back now, my father's actions were anything but that. Of course…I can't speak much differently of the count, but I must believe he loved me. It must have been real, if only for one enormous and terrible moment, when tears rolled down his cheeks, and a gun pointed at my head.

God the guilt...I hate myself for clinging to that thought; when Franz had shown me, in the loudest way he could, who, in the whole world had loved me most. And now Eugenie is doing her best to scream it at me, begging me to let it go, just as Franz did.

But I cannot stand the thought of not loving him.

Poor Eugenie. She's worried. She wants my mother and I to come to New York while she goes to school, but I don't know.

I told her I'd think about it, and she must have heard something in my voice because she calls back within the hour, and doesn't even bother with pleasantries.

"Albert, are you okay?" her voice is soft on the other line, full of concern and warmth. I can hear her tension and imagine that she must be standing by her piano, one hand on its pearly keys, for comfort and support.

"Yeah." I laugh, but have admit, it sounds fake even to me. "Shouldn't you be registering for classes? Have you met any of your piano instructors yet?"

"It's okay Albert, you don't have to…to pretend." She sounds awkward and I wonder why we have such a hard time admitting our feelings to each other. Love shouldn't be like this, but then, maybe this is real? It was easy with Edmond, until the lies came out. Does that mean easy love is a lie?

So if real love is hard, but easy love is a lie then what's the point? What's the point if it hurts, or you're only fooling yourself?

"Tell me," she pleads, "what's going on inside of you?"

If his love was a lie, then why did my kiss force Gankutsuou back?

How can I ask Eugenie something like that? I don't, and I never will.

I can't ask my mother, Baptisin, or Haydee. They devoted their hearts to him, but none of them could save him. It was me. Wasn't it? I was the one who brought Edmond back, it killed him, but I brought him back….why does it matter now?

"I'm just a little lost." I tell her.

Who was Edmond Dantes really? Was his acting, his maneuvering me into position, really all fake? Were there at least half-truths in the things he did, and said?

His feelings of hatred were real enough, but I don't sense that he ever hated me personally. He called me a tool, a pawn, but I think he would have left me alone if I hadn't challenged him to that duel…a duel that destroyed the one person who WAS telling me the truth.

There is a painful wait, and I don't tell her any of this.

She's hesitating, wanting me to go on, not sure what to say. I want her to press me, and it bothers me that she can't read my mind the way the count always did…but then maybe that was just an illusion. He had such power over me, did he really create my thoughts?

How can I admit that I don't even know who, or what he was? And yet it consumes me. I love the count. Or, did I feel so worthless that I needed him, on any level, to tell me I was valuable?

Did I give him all I had again, after he had destroyed Franz, my best friend, as he would have destroyed me, because I was desperate to be loved? Did I simply imagine his fondness and regard at the end? Or did I really see him? Did all the things I so adamantly believed about Edmond prove themselves truths in that kiss?

"I'm sorry Eugenie." I say when I can stand the thoughts no longer. "I need to help mother pack. She needs to get out of Paris. We all do."

Would it be more painful, as it was that night on the landing platform, to know the truth? Will I ever have the courage to let go?

* * *

"I don't understand why we couldn't have stayed at the villa." Gankutsuou growled in the back of their head. "It's totally deserted and no one will ever buy it. The place is singularly your taste, after all."

"I can not guarantee that there will be no prospective buyers." Was Edmond's bored reply.

"Or," the demon wondered with an ironic tone, probing, and testing the mind beneath him, "is the truth that you can not stand the thought of seeing your guilt in those blue eyes; should they come visit the lost count's home?"

Edmond turned his face away. In the window of the taxi his faint reflection, trapped in glass, peered back with a muddled expression.

Dressed in a simple black button down shirt and trousers, having sold a few items left at the villa, he watched the streets pass by. There were memories here, most of them involving Albert; trusting and honest in youthful adoration.

Not as he had been when the bombs fell, or as he'd sobbed goodbye onto his chest.

"What an adventure these days have been." Gankutsuou's voice seethed with sarcasm. "you turned down every opportunity I gave you to mass wealth, even refused to slit the throat of that drunken pig who dared who dared lay his hands on you. You've never been the type to just walk away my friend."

He bit his tongue, and would not play this game.

The taxi stopped alongside the Veillefort mansion, now vandalized beyond recognition. Red graffiti and vial words covered the outside walls. Shattered glass coated the overgrown grass below broken windows, violated by rocks and bricks.

He hoped the green house had survived.

As he made his way across the neglected yard a cat hissed and dodged away, having claimed an abandoned room within the white walls for it's den.

Here was the end of Veillefort's accomplishments; his house demolished, the upholstery torn, and gangly spider-webs growing in the corners.

"Do you feel like a new man?" Gankutsuou continued his snaky speech. "Has _helping_ humanity opened up your world? Does the idea of spreading your kindness really sooth you more than the evidence of your revenge?!"

"Not at all," Edmond murmured, reveling in the distressed look of the property, and how it now echoed the minds of its former masters.

"Then return to your servants and let us rebirth the count so that he may continue his campaigns! Death wishes for us to do good, let us go and do it! We could change this world!"

He shook his head and sighed. "No."

"Albert would be happy to see you, my friend, and furious to find that you'd avoided him this long."

"Albert was seduced. I will not disrupt his life again."

The greenhouse windows, like those of the white monstrous building behind, were in complete disarray. The sensitive plants within wilted and bent in the uncontrolled temperature.

He did not stop, however, to examine the fading foliage and climbing vines, instead he went straight to the plant he had noted on his last and only visit here.

Stooping over, black and wavy hair falling forward before being pushed hurriedly aside, he gathered the roots, as well as a few precious seed pods; beige and round.

Madam Villerfort had no idea how helpful she had been to the count, a perfect minion; stupid, and easy to control.

"Are there enough?" The demon asked.

"Plenty. The plant is in poor condition, but the stock is good. I can make enough pills to last until we find somewhere to grow the seeds."

"We?"

"I." he rolled his eyes.

Gankutsuou did not hide his elation. This was excellent! A fortuitous sign! Edmond could not help but think of them as sharing action. This was good.

"You don't exactly need pills to hold me back now that you have death's gift. I'm not crystallizing you're body…why bother with them?"

"I am not a fool, Gankutsuou." He pulled a smooth hair behind a pointed ear, with long and dangerous nails. "I have studied the tales of the Transylvanian vampire, one of your former hosts. Even in this arrangement, with Death's added power, I will need blood. I deduced, long ago, that the reason you allowed me to hold you back with pills, was that they aided you in avoiding the inconvenience of such hunts, and less productive obsessions, such as those which go with the vampire's thirst. Drinking blood, while giving me my own power and immortality separate from you, will make me more and more a creature of shadow and under your rule. You are hoping I would ignorantly depend on human food alone, and fall pray to the blood lust, am I right?"

The demon laughed, enjoying how clever and suitable his host was. "Yes, completely. Perhaps I should not have mentioned it during our chat with death…I gave myself away."

"Then I think these roots will produce enough batches, and I think I'll disregard your advice concerning them."

* *

It's hard to describe what makes one performance of the same piano piece, preformed at the same skill level, better than another. Maybe I'm partial because she's an old friend. Either way, I love listening to her play.

I feel like something inside of me rises and falls with the high and low notes, and for a while I take my eyes off of Eugenie in her white sun dress, and lean back in my chair to listen.

This is the first time she's played publicly in New York, and from the stunned faces around the room, I think she's impressed some of the Universities patrons. I hope so. She deserves it.

After the show I meet her at the bottom of the stage. I brought flowers this time, carnations, white and yellow.

Maybe I don't understand woman, she seems disappointed that I didn't bring fruit this time.

Mother tells me later that Eugenie probably wanted things to feel normal between us. The flowers ended up being one more unexpected, and probably threatening change.

She also tells me how wonderful my friend is, and how lucky any man will be to have her. I'm listening, riding backwards in the carriage, enjoying the decidedly different look of New York City. It's gritty, and powerful - the kind of city you can take at face value, as long as you expect it to be dangerous.

I'm feeling pretty good, its nice to be in a place that makes me feel alive and so full of movement, and then that word slips out.

"Marseilles?" the disbelief is plain on my face. "you still want to go back there? Why?"

She's ringing her hands together, my beautiful mother in her red gown, with sadness in her eyes.

"It was the last place where everything was right, the last place I was happy. Albert…when your father…what he did to poor Edmond…Albert you were the only good that came of that terrible mistake I made."

She's about to cry, so I stand up and move, sitting beside her so I can hold her hand. The fabric of her glove is wrinkled and velvet, but she squeezes me hard through it.

"Albert, I'm so sorry…I know this all happened because of me, and now you feel the same hole that I felt all my life."

It strikes me; she's right. All this confusion, all my sadness…Franz was right. I can be so spoiled. My arms embrace her and she sobs into my shoulder.

We are all asking ourselves the same questions; Haydee, my mother, and I.

"I know it won't be the same." She continues. "But I just need to be home."


	3. Chapter 3

Dear readers: I am (obviously) a fan of The Count of Monte Cristo. I have watched the anime, the movies, and read the books. Thus I'm afraid I can't separate Edmond from the sea. So, some of the ships he encounters are space vessels, and some of them roam the water. Obviously when visiting another planet it would require a spaceship. However, since in the anime they still use trains and cars as transportation (in this futuristic society) to move around their own planet, I'm going to argue that they might still use wooden/sea fairing ships as well.

Fires and smoke; they seemed to follow him these days. Edmond, burdened under the weight of an idiotic innkeeper, pulled himself slowly from a building far away from Paris. A paramedic dashed forward to relieve him of the fool's massive form.

His fanged mouth growled, irritated, as Edmond brushed the soot from his sleeves. When he gave his statement to the police there were no details spared. The innkeeper had set the kindle, in barrels, around the dining area. He'd prepared the arson with disregard for all of his patrons. Like a naive child, Edmond hadn't realized what that fat and ridiculous man had been planning - not until after the piercing screech of a fire alarm had disrupted his dreams.

He turned his back, marching away from the flaming building, before the doctors could stop and examine him.

Anger threatened to bite. That ass deserved to die. The innkeeper deserved to die for risking the lives of all the people who had paid for his services, and a night free of danger and cold. Men, women, and children -- he'd ranked all of their lives beneath his greed. Another snarl escaped his throat.

All of Gankutsuou's eyes enlarged, fascinated.

Lapsing into a moment of exhaustion after their journey off planet, Edmond had missed the clear signs of mischief, later waking to the smell of burning wood and hair, people screaming, and an infant crying. A beam, hot with flames, blocked his way to the nearest fire escape in the hall. Together, along with a woman who had emerged from the next room, they had fled down another set of stairs. The railing's fell away, and the column supporting the ceiling tried to collapse. Embers floated through the air with deadly intentions, looking for spots barren of flame wherein to land.

The front door was inaccessible. He'd grabbed a bar stool by the kitchen and threw it into a window, allowing the woman to escape through broken glass and wire.

"Help." A voice asked, without intensity. It stopped Edmond, and he found over his shoulder the man, trapped by wreckage, underneath the weight of his own scheme.

Tempted to leave him there, encouraged to do so by the cavern king, realizing this man would have let him die; Edmond regarded the pink and bulbous face.

The innkeeper's expression was not pleading. He knew his crime, yet his eyes and his voice still dared to ask, simply, for help. Not ready for the end, he looked to Edmond, searching for compassion.

"Weakness." Gankutsuou mused.

He needed to say no more. If Edmond had accessed more of Gankutsuou's power, given him more free reign, he would not have needed to sleep. He would not have been too tired to care what the innkeeper had been about. He would have had the heart to leave him there to die.

"Wait!" A voice called from behind. A young guard hurried forward, dressed in the classic blue uniform of his station. "Please wait!"

* * *

My heart is racing, my skin dewy with sweat, and I hear my own breath fill the room with panting. She's atop me, another body heavy against my own. The force of my ache makes her gasp as I push, the sound erotic, and our friction wet. The muscles in my stomach burn from lifting us, and she rocks back and forth around me, slightly, not sure what to do.

White skin blushes and glows, dim in the turned down lights. Her hands are limp at her side, inexperienced, and my own hold her in place at her hips. My fingers make little dents over her thighs, and I remind myself not to grip her too tightly. She's soft, and warm, both shy, and frightened of the feeling between her legs.

When I run my hand over her breast I'm surprised by how it feels. The skin of another person is easily caressed, and a much more silken texture than I'd thought. She looks away, refusing to watch me explore her, ashamed and excited.

The shadows kiss her cheeks with circles and massage the edges of her body. She rises and falls on my rhythm.

Her shape holds my gaze, womanly and curved, but I feel odd staring when she chances a glance back at me. The awkwardness of our eye contact makes my shaft yearn -- to know she's giving me so much power. It's nice to be on the other end of that equation, for once.

Blond hair falls into her face, pulled loose from the style she'd worn on our date. I didn't think we'd end up here, and neither of us was well prepared. It's only been a little while since I came to New York…. She's embarrassed, and covers her hips, trying to conceal her size. I smile and reassure her: she's beautiful.

We experience each other for a time, and though my pulse rushes blood into my need, and although I watch her nervous eyes grow gray as she draws closer to climax, I cannot seem to satisfy my own elusive pleasure. I try several positions; clumsily, and finally find myself looking down, propped above on my knees, pushing as gently as I can in my urgency, holding one leg over my shoulder.

It hurts her, but she begs me to keep going. Part of her thinks that if this experience goes well, if she gives me enough pleasure, I'll stay with her forever.

Nothing comes, no release, no exuberating orgasm, but she is close. I close my eyes, intending to work until I have given her something. She whimpers, an expression both of pain and pleasure.

After a time in the dark, behind the lids of my eyes, reality melts away. I let go and feel, forgetting whom I'm with, my name, and my reservations. I imagine him. His face, his mismatched eyes, his dangerous grin; I wonder what it would have felt like, to be pinned beneath him in frantic passion, to feel him hold me down and whisper in my ears as he penetrated me. His mouth would have been slick and warm around my cock, his hands aggressive, and sweet.

At last the spasms bringing me back into the room, and hers follow soon after, jerking and wiping away all thought.

* * *

Edmond looked up to the bow of the L'étoile de l'océan, a fine black wooded ship with full sails and a billowing flag. The letters on its hull were crisp and white, and curved gracefully. They matched the writing on a note in his hand, the penmanship clear and straight.

"So," Gankutsuou said, looking at the name over his shoulder. "You're going to try it eh?"

"It was one of my greatest passions, once."

The guard who had approached Edmond two days ago had insisted on buying him a late night meal, under the illusion he was some sort of hero. During the conversation, in which Edmond was ever evasive, he'd discovered that his hero could man a ship, and told him his brother captained one.

Thinking not of consequences, blindly trusting a stranger simply because Edmond had refused to let a moron burn to death, this civil servant had insisted Edmond meet the fellow and join the crew.

"I think I'm starting to get it." Gankutsuou mumbled. "Are you…kind to these strangers who are just as likely as any to stab you in the back, because….it has payoffs? But, if you would like rewards I hope you realize -- my way is faster, and with far greater treats."

Edmond didn't argue back, as so many would. Gankutsuou was right, in his mind's eye. People, especially the ones you loved, could not be trusted, and those who seemed interested in helping you were probably not, and if opposite proved true, there was always some hidden selfish motive.

Even nobler drives, such as moral or spiritual reasons, were still intended to benefit the participant by pleasing whatever god they named. There was still some personal gain. Nobody, none he could honestly say he met, did things simply to do them. It was illogical, none animalistic. Motivation was always key, and nearly always self-serving.

"I've never claimed to believe in altruism." He finally responded.

"So will you take the job?"

He folded the paper again, it's surface wrinkled and gnarled on his black glove, and scratched, gently, the angle of his chin. There was no part of him ready to believe the guard had 'just done him a favor.' This had to be a plot.

Rather than walk onto the fine vessel, docked so listlessly at port, he turned heal. There were always other ships.

* * *

I'm trying hard to be Eugenie's boyfriend. After everything we've been through I can't just abandon her. But it's too much. Every time I touch her, every time we kiss, the essence of another threatens to enter my imagination.

It's time to tell her the truth.

I do it when we meet for dinner, early, so she can find someone to cry with if she hates me, or if she chases me out of her home. I can't read her expression as I talk, for five straight minutes she is blank and careful.

"I see." There is no pain in her voice, but I sense a tension, "So, even after what he did to Franz, even after you rescued me from Andrea on my wedding day, through all of it, and up until this moment…you love him."

"I don't know who I loved. Maybe I loved what I wanted him to be? I don't know. But it isn't fair to you, to let this hang between us."

She smiles softly, "You still love him. Even if he's gone, its still there." She crosses the room to kiss my lips, and the pleasantness of her sent breaks the last of my resolve. It finally comes out: the confusion, frustration, the anger, and the loss.

In front of the person I need to be strongest for, I start to ball.

Eugenie doesn't judge me, she sits, with my head on her lap, as I cry on her knees, clinging to her, in the parlor of her dorm room house, and she simply strokes my hair.

The voices of her roommates in the kitchen quiet, and steadily doors close throughout the house.

Through my tears I can see the bookcases and blue carpets lit by the fireplace. It's warm, like when Franz died.

My sobs are worse.

"Albert…" she speaks the words slowly, thinking about each one before they leave her lips. "maybe you should go to Marseilles for a while."

The timid suggestion horrifies me – it means I've pushed her away. I should never have spoken. Immediately I draw back, and search her eyes.

"You only knew the Count with the mask he wore, after the terrible things that happened to him, and to us…how could you possibly be certain of anything? Maybe by experiencing the place where he was the truest "Edmond Dantes," you'll get a better picture of what was underneath all of his lies, and I hope…some closure."

"But Eugenie, what about you?"

"It's clear you need to do this. I won't hold you back. You need to find yourself, just like I'm doing here. This is your journey. That's what I think. And where ever it leaves us, even if it hurts, I'm still going to be your friend."


	4. Chapter 4

Dear readers, sorry if I'm struggling with spelling the names. I try to correct them when I find issues, but don't hesitate to point them out.

The texture of leather, not the over treated and plasticized stuff in modern shops, but the kind taken from an animal raised by the winds of the sea, in rich fields, by a farmer who loved an attended it was something he'd almost forgotten. One could only find leather like this in those little villages that were fast disappearing the world over. Places where people respected the Earth and her creatures were hard to find. Generally they lived in small homey villages, with white little houses and an old-timey market places, similar to the one Edmond now called home.

When he had purchased the book, its journal pages blank and ready, he'd thought about how Ali, and his father, would have approved. They'd both loved animals, and when he'd looked into the eyes of the man whose livelihood was the happiness of his milking cows, he'd felt something in him stir.

This was a piece of that man. He knew every animal by name, and could not see them as mere commodities. Each line on his withered face symbolized a year, granted by the animals on which he depended.

"I never mess up their skin with dies," He'd told Edmond, "Keeps a nice feel. Please treat it well."

"You see?" Gankutsuou had snorted in his head. "He would claim to love those beasts, and yet he's willing to sell parts of their dead bodies. Humans are such morbid things."

Edmond searched the Elder for an answer, one he never found, but something about the experience made his spine tingle.

Now, aboard the ship, a simple crewman of a humble vessel, he sketched his first journal entry into the leather book. Yet his thoughts remained murky things, hard to pin down.

He'd intended to keep the entries as a record of the days as they passed currently, and not the history he'd grown so weary of. But within three paragraphs the word "Albert" had already appeared.

"Adnet!" One of his shipmates called his alias surname down into the mess hall. "Captain wants you!"

He tore the page out and tossed the journal onto his bed, passing by his community shared quarters on the way up the stairs.

Captain Cain's cabin had the distinct smell of a man. It was the lair of a typical captain, his retreat, and his fondest place. In the entire galaxy, there was not another who loved sailing as much as he, and being tidy less. What order he maintained he did only to keep his rank and position.

"Adnet." He began, a mellow tone in his voice, for he was a laid back sort of fellow -- even in his lofty position, "I hope you won't think me rude, but I've been keeping track of you out of the corner of my eye for the last few months."

"Indeed? I hadn't noticed." Edmond lied.

"Yes, you take quite a few pills. Are you ill?"

Edmond's spine straightened, "I have a none contagious illness sir, they keep my symptoms in check."

"You're a fantastic sailor."

"Sir?" Cain's strange demeanor made his hackles rise.

"You underachieve to avoid attention. Whenever someone tries to give you credit for good work you give the glory to another man. When we have a crisis, you are the first to respond and last to relax, but you will not give orders. From what I've observed, I have a sneaking suspicion that you know more about this ship than even I do. This begs the question: why haven't you ever moved up in rank? I'll be blunt; I don't want criminals on my ship. If you are hiding from the law you'll need to move on."

"Well," Gankutsuou swooned within the back of his mind, "This is a precarious situation. As Edmond Dantes you're supposed to be in jail, but the count never was convicted with anything public. Will you lie once more, to protect yourself?"

He contemplated his answer with a calculated calm, "Sir, I have been several men in my life time, but I promise you this: I have never technically committed any crime…that isn't to say I have been totally honorable, or that I live without regret, but all of my actions have been executed within the bounds of law."

"Say no more, that's good enough for me."

"I'm sorry?"

"I trust your answers. You've given me no reason not to."

He couldn't help himself; this philosophical debate had been running about his head for months now. "How can you trust me, based only on that?"

The captain sat back in his chair. Papers and books towered atop his desk in pillars.

"You strike me," he answered, leaning back behind a pile of restless and torn bindings so that the view of his face was obscured, "as someone who is a little too careful."

"One cannot afford to be any different in this world."

"Perhaps you're right. Well then, Adnet, you are dismissed."

His bow was one of hesitation.

That was it? The issues resolved?

As he left the Cain to his work the captain grinned. A click told him the door had closed and he spoke aloud to himself. "I never thought it was possible, but here you are -- Edmond."

* * *

Three months have passed since I came to mother in Marseilles. I was terrified. It was like every corner I turned, every person I saw, somehow embodied the man I'd lost. After the first week, I didn't think I'd last here.

Ironically, it was going to Edmond's old house that changed my mind. The bed where his father had died pinched nerves all over me, and for a moment I thought I felt him holding my hand in his.

All this stuff, a bunch of broken things covered in dust, said one thing clearly: nothing of my elaborate Count lived here, just Edmond.

While we looked around the house Mother told me stories, some very sad, and others not. When she told me how his father died, starving to death without any money, my hands felt hot. Even though she'd tried to send him help, when she'd married my father he'd stopped her gifts from ever reaching the sick old man.

I understand the Count's heart more and more each day – all too late.

It would be so easy to hate the people who took all my loved ones away, and yet, I can't…Franz told me, begged me not to hate. I think I'm doing a good job not hating anyone.

But I understand why Edmond couldn't do that. After all, if I'd tried to find my answers in the concrete hell of the chateau D'if…my story might be different to.

As if sensing my bleak mood, mother switches her tone and tells me about their childhood. Her favorite story was the time they'd all gone fishing, and Edmond had fallen in the lake. The slope was steep and muddy, and by the time he'd climbed out he was caked with dirt. They'd all jumped in, my father, Edmond, and mother -- rolling in the mud like three puppies.

"When you met the Count," I'd asked, running my hands over one of the worn down green and gold chairs, "he reminded you of Edmond. I saw you looking at his picture on the balcony the night you first saw him. Did he act the same way? Was his personality very similar?"

A shake of her head made her earrings jingle and catch the light. "There was…something about him. But no, there was nothing in his behavior specifically. Perhaps in how he looked at me…"

I wince, and try to do so away from her, but she catches the expression, and puts a hand on my forearm. "Son, I love you much, much more than I love myself or the past, and it is clear from his actions: he loved you. I want you to know, I have never, nor would I ever, see these events as you taking something from me."

Her voice chokes. "If anything, I have taken something from you. I know what it is you feel, and would never wish another to experience it."

This moment, in a winter afternoon in Marseilles, reminds me of what home used to feel like.

Eventually the setting is too much, and we trench home through snow.

These yellow tinted buildings, the fields and beeches, the little trees and rivers must look fantastic in the spring. They are already pristine, the snow lays on branches and the ground in fantastic contrasts.

I've never been anywhere as beautiful as this before, nature is so prominent here. It's not at all like father used to say.

My favorite spot is a cave. It reminds me of the place where the count and I had our first real talk, after my duel with Maximilien. Sometimes I go there, and whisper all the things I'd like to say to him. It's all I can do to keep from going mad. Maybe he can hear them…wherever he is.

Franz, after he came here, died… for me. He died at the Count's hands. What would he think of all this?

These thoughts are devastating, heavier than I am. I start my new job tomorrow in Marseilles' city hall. I wonder if I'll be able to handle it.

* * *

"Adnet!" Edmond grimaced at his name being shouted from the captain's mouth.

He dropped the rope to his sail into the hand of a nearby deck hand and dashed to the helm. "Yes sir?"

His orders were not a surprise. "First mate Collins is still under the weather. As you know he's getting on in years. I want you to lead a group of men to shore in the next harbor to get the supplies. You'll have to organize the party, figure out what we need and so forth."

"Surly sir," he protested, "there are plenty of men more qualified than me."

"Hardly! I understand it's the general feeling of the crew that you're the most apt sailor for the job, and it's definitely my opinion…so… off you go."

Thus it was that, annoyed, he tallied the inventory of the ship with three of his compatriots. They chatted among themselves, trying now and again to draw Edmond in. Always he was polite, and always aloof.

"You know," Gankutsuou shared his unrequested opinion, "the captain is aware that you're trying not to be noticed. He must know you don't want recognition."

"That's how everything started the first time, if I hadn't earned that damn promotion, if the captain hadn't noticed me, hadn't trusted me with that damn letter..." Edmond snapped back, in thought.

The four men poured through a disgusting number of supply boxes and containers.

"I wonder," they exited to the ship's running skiff, "why he forces favor on you. My instincts, which are rarely wrong, say that he knows something about you. I suggest we find out what it is, before another trap is sprung."

* * *

Damn it. I'd been so excited to see Maximilien, but he's been deployed. His family lives in Marseilles, and now Valentine does to. She comes to give me the bad news. After some persuading I convince her to stay and have lunch with me.

It's too cold to eat outside, so we find a quiet corner in her favorite restaurant and start catching up.

Something must really be wrong with me, because even she comments on how I've changed. How could I not though?

She orders a delicious looking local dish, full of things from the sea, and I take a chance on the out of season salad, feeling like I need something light. There's too much weight in my life right now.

Valentine asks how my mother is…how we're doing…and then quite out of nowhere starts screaming at me. Maybe she's a little more aggressive than that quiet voice suggests. I've been yelled at a few times by her now…I'm thinking it might be true: how they say it's always the quiet ones that go crazy.

What she says doesn't surprise me. Franz is dead because of me. I should have seen through the Count…how could I have let this happen…and so forth.

I knew she was jealous that Franz cared so much about me, and that we were so close. Even now that she's happy that feeling hasn't completely gone away.

When her anger is spent she stares at me, startled and humiliated.

"I'm so sorry Albert…I don't know what came over me! I just…I just."

I stand up, put enough money on the table to cover our meals and smile my best 'I'm not hurt' smile. "It okay. You're right."

"No!" She grabs my hand. "No, I'm not! I'm just not adjusting well, and now Maxamilien's gone for who knows how long…listen Albert, I'm sorry. Eugenie told me why you're here, and it made me so angry. Why would you still want to understand that man? But I know that Franz came for the same reason, to help you before it was too late…and he decided to die at the Count's hands, rather than expose him! He thought there was hope for you two. That means…even he must have seen good in the Count."

My mind drifts back to his letter…what is the message I'm getting from all the people in my life? How could I love the count, and at the same time, how could I not? What do they want from me? Like I don't already know that I'm responsible for Franz's death? If I'd just controlled my temper!

Before I do something stupid I take my leave. We'll be all right. Valentine and I have always had sort of a rocky relationship, but we always smile after the storm.


	5. Chapter 5

"Please! Please don't!" Captain Cain grappled at the hands around his neck, legs kicking out as they swung in the air.

"You will tell me what you know of the man called Edmond Dantes." He warned, tightening his hands for good measure. "And do not lie, I don't have the patience."

It was night, and they awaited port by the glare of a lighthouse. Leaving the docking of the ship to the aging number one, the robust and brightly dressed Captain had retired hours ago.

Under the stealth of a night without wind, the fugitive from the Château Di'f had crept wily into the cabin.

His strength, superior to that of many men thanks to Gankutsuou, had lifted the Captain from his sleep with a rather irregular awakening, hosting him up and above Edmond, who's height exceeded his own already.

Shaking the man and barking questions he slammed him against the far wall, caring not a bit if he should be discovered. There was a plot here, and he would find it before the past repeated.

"Edmond, Edmond it's me! Don't you recognize me?"

Eyes narrowed, what trickery was this? But, yes, a familiar face hid behind years of change and growth. Stunned and confused, he lowered Cain, and released him.

"God Edmond, I can understand why you'd be careful, maybe a bit funny in the head, but really!? Strangling your captain!? What exactly did you think you'd accomplish?"

"H…Henry? Henry Mcabby?"

"Damn it! That hurt!" his face was red as he rubbed his neck.

Serendipity, ever at his side, had played another hand.

"What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here?" the perturbed, but good humored man frowned, "I'm not the one who's supposed be locked up!"

The memories of betrayal, tasting of iron in his mouth, made him bristle immediately. He retreated a few steps, keeping a clawed hand ready to strike.

A friendly man, Cain didn't notice what the dark concealed. He smoothed his erratic red crown of balding hair. "You look good, too good…I almost didn't recognize you. When I finally heard you speak though, I knew 'that's got to be Edmond.' Course I suspected it, with the way you can sail."

His emotions whirled. What was happening? How should he respond? For once the Demon gave no suggestion, equally thrown off.

"When..when they took you…I made the whole crew sign a petition speaking for your character. All the witnesses to the captain's death signed a letter to, saying the document had been his and not yours. Guess the judge didn't care."

Hostility twisted within, but he restrained himself, recognizing irrational panic.

"How'd you know?" Cain laughed. "How'd you know I'd figured you out?"

Edmond's mouth would not form words.

The technologically advanced ship pulled easily into dock, and giant underwater clamps thumped, holding it in place. Although not as fast as air born ships, such transports were far more economical -- as far as cost of shipping large goods. It's silver and sleek design made many an engineer proud as it sailed on with pinpoint accuracy.

Someone knocked on the door to alert the captain of their arrival. He switched on the lights, "Alright, be there in a minute."

At last Edmond spoke, his voice soft and deep. "Is that why you gave me such notice?"

Cain laughed. "Well like I said, you're a brilliant sailor. When I head your voice it made sense. You were trying to avoid attention. Oh, the crew of the pharaon, our old ship -- we figured it out. It took us a while, but we caught up. Danglar and the others had set you up. Course a bunch of scrawny, non-aristocratic sailors couldn't do much to help! Luigi wanted to storm the Chateau Di'f ! Said he'd make every damn aristocrat pay for what that judge did to you."

"Yes…" he mused at an empty wall. "Luigi and I had a run in, recently."

"Really?" The captain ran to his mirror, putting his appearances in order. "I heard he went to Luna or something like that. Said he was sick of Paris and its corruption. So how'd you get out?"

"EDMOND!" Gankutsuou suddenly shrieked in his mind. "A ransom! That's it, I'm sure that the courts would pay for you to be returned. They may think your dead now, but not if he parades through the door with you!"

It took no more than just the possibility. He flew forward, a knife in hand, and flung the helpless man back to land painfully on his elbow.

"I will not go back there!" there was such damage in his voice, so many razors cutting at his speech.

Fangs bore the threat, and Cain, shocked, scrambled in his dingy white sheets to stand.

"Edmond, are you crazy?! What are you talking about? I tried to keep you out!"

"Lies are easy." His feet moved forward.

"Edmond no!" he crawled to his knees, "I haven't done anything to you!"

"No." he agreed, grabbing him by the collar and hoisting once more into the air. "Not yet."

Sometimes in life there are moments when we, as mortals, are faced with death, and the prospect that we are about to experience awful pain. In those moments, whatever our habits, appearances, or words -- we show our true colors.

Henry Mcabby, a man now hiding within his own alias, proved his soul. The fear melted from his eyes, and his pleading stopped. When he looked into Edmond, he saw the pain of a man maddened by loss, the ages of stone imprisonment, and silence within the monstrous torment. The amber of Edmond's eyes was a manuscript of human breaking point, and the pages turned with disrupted mutiny.

His voice became that of compassion, intelligent, and aware.

"God man…what must it have been like for you?"

Weather it was the affect of his tone, their history together, or the hunger for companionship after yet another life left behind, Edmond's hands faltered. He dropped the man and staggered backwards, knife at the level of his chest, as an abused dog bares his teeth.

* * *

I think things are finally getting better. I'm good at my job, my mom lives above a flower shop, I talk to Eugenie on the phone every weekend, and Valentine and I go shopping in the city every third Wednesday! This city finally feels like home. You'd be so proud of me Franz, if you could see me now.

It's kind of nice walking to the places he used to go and seeing things that make me happy, things that I own, that are me. The people that I know, the places I like to go, the things I like to do; I'm my own person here.

Sort of like, well it's sort of like I'm living for both of us, like I can feel Edmond walking with me!

It would have been so beautiful to see how he looked at the beach at sundown! The colors I've seen there - I didn't even know existed!

It's only taken a year, and maybe I'll never be able to feel this way all the time, but even to have moments where I remember him, and feel peaceful about it, instead of that panicked denial, its nice.

Not that I'm all the way there yet. Things are still pretty frantic, mostly at night. It's hard to be alone with it sometimes.

Maybe I'll go and visit Eugenie next spring. She's dating someone... That's okay with me, in a twisted way. Kind of feels like I deserve it.

Maximilian told me he was afraid I'd turned myself into a masochist in one of his letters. Can't figure out where he got that idea.

That reminds me, mom's girlfriend is coming over for dinner. Wasn't expecting that one, but I'd be done with men if I'd lived her life to! I'm not so far from being fed up with romance myself!

I like her girlfriend though. She's clean and sweet, and she actually looks me in the eye! Her names Jamie and she's a really pretty lady!

Jamie told me, when my mom finally went into the story of the count, that all pain passes eventually. How it passes isn't certain, but eventually it will end. You just need to keep your head up and keep going.

No secret as to why that struck home. To my credit, I even told here that was similar to what a really close friend of mine said to me once – bide your time and hold out hope. Couldn't say his name though. Too emotional that day.

* * *

"Ha! Read them and weep boys!" Cain chortled a winner's laugh, "That's what you get for playing with a gambling master!"

He pulled the pile into his hands, fondling his newly won gold.

The candle light within the mess hall made many convenient shadows, and Edmond tried to meld with them, heading towards his room, hoping to go unnoticed.

In the back Cain and his brood of companions sat on stools and shipping boxes around an elongated oval table with the ships cook. Above them an open window caught mists of clouds darkening in twilight, allowing sea air to mingle with that of the enclosed ship.

Just a moment ago Edmond had rested to the side of the helm, its master happy enough to ignore him. Reading a book, drinking hot coffee, under the purples of sunset that can be only viewed at sea, he'd leaned his head back – bewildered he was still on this ship.

Because he had threatened to expose them, Morcerf and the others had attempted to have Henry exiled. Thus the alias and new job. With his experience he'd rose to captain quickly, and apparently had collected something of a misfit crew. He'd revealed to Edmond that, to his knowledge, only a few of the crew actually went by their real names – and ironically few of them had committed any crime.

"Humans." Gankutsuou snorted. "Easy to corrupt. You turn on each other whenever there is the slightest gain."

Cain was married now; his wife lived at their port of birth. There was always the risk he would betray Edmond, turn him in, and in fact he was considering disappearing at the next drop off.

Until then bed, after a backbreaking day, and a journal would do.

"You wouldn't need to sleep," Gankutsuou reminded him lazily, "If you'd just use more of my power."

The groans of the loosing participants of Cain's poker game distracted him from the demons monotonous lecture. He thought himself out of danger and nearly to his room, when an all too forgiving voice yelled out at him.

"How about it, Adnet," Cain used his alias, as they had agreed after the short talk following his outburst only a few nights ago, "you up for a game?"

After several futile attempts to refuse he was bustled over, room made between a large and burley set of men.

"I don't understand this man." He thought. "I almost kill him, and now he wants to play cards."

Gankutsuou nodded in distracted agreement, attention trained on Cain. The man, as that boy's soul on that first night on the platform, pestered him. It was something distinctly…not what he would call human, and he wanted to lash out at it.

Instead he tilted his head, watching his host with undue interest.

Edmond stroked his goatee, not wanting to offend Cain out of a sense of guilt at having attacked him. He was dealt a hand, and regarded the cards in quiet contemplation. Despite his beauty, particularly in comparison to the sloth like crew, thus far he'd managed to keep a low profile, for which he was glad.

Most of that was an affect of his demeanor; intensity and confidence rarely invite bullies, and keeping one's head down conceals physical appeal from those too shallow to really look.

Now, however, he could not help but feel the stairs of his co-workers. Most of them were politely startled, concealing such thoughts as 'has this gent been here the whole time? How did I not notice a man with pointed ears and fangs?' others, more romantically inclined, had more visceral reactions.

However, his tendency to say less and observe more only furthered that ever-troublesome air of mystery, and in three games he had captivated most of their fancies.

Cain, however, was frowning at his distinctly smaller pile of chips. "Okay," he spat, "so you win a few games. I say we make this more interesting before he takes all of our money."

Horrible images of strip poker played through his mind. The thought of it with this bunch made him shudder. He controlled the urge to wretch and asked, with his calm and usual manner, "what do you suggest?"

"Let's gamble with something else." Cain was not about to loose what he'd earned so swiftly, and money had not been his agenda in stonewalling Edmond into socializing.

"Such as?" He silently prayed it would not be strip poker.

The term 'be careful what you wish for' took new meaning to him, for Cain suggested something that (to Edmond) caused much more fear.

"I will bet you a month of paid leave and use of the captain's quarters…" the men awed, "if you bet me one simple thing."

Edmond's right eyebrow arched in inquiry.

"You become first mate of the Forbin."

"That," he corrected in that adult and mature manner so fascinating and unique to his persona, "is not something that should be decided by chance."

"Everyone on this ship thinks you're the man for the job, they all like you're work, and during the last three raids from those damn pirates, you really took charge! Why, most of the men at this table owe their lives to you! Why William's here said you the best choice to replace him after he retires, and he's done this job for years! If any man knows a suitable sailor – it's him!"

He frowned, standing, "I think I must refuse."

"Come on Adnet!" a sailor in a striped bandana chided, "you've won plenty of games! And it's a win-win situation! I'd like that kind of luck in the casinos on Luna!"

"Have you ever heard of the gamblers fallacy, my friend?" he retorted, a hand on his stubborn hip.

"You're a Virgo, right?" Said a woman. She turned over cards in succession, sitting across from Cain. He grinned at her and nodded.

Edmond had seen her around the ship, giving similar readings to his coworkers. He'd never thought much of fortunetelling or divination, but she seemed constantly bombarded by the rest of the crew.

With blonde hair tied into a ponytail under a full brimmed hat and blue trousers she seemed deceptively ordinary and simple. She turned another card and shook her head.

"You have a dark past, full of betrayal…betrayal at the hands of your friends. You returned it, after much time."

That could have been a lucky guess, and he refused to react. Cain could even have told her most of it.

"There is a more recent union, you lost it…the tower… the chariot. Something ground shaking changed, and you moved in an all-new direction…but there is another influence. The devil….there is a masculine energy – someone influencing your decisions, not always for the better. He is a dark figure…something you keep hidden to yourself…something to do with caverns."

...What the hell was this? He made sure to keep his figure still.

"Odd," she finished. "You're the wheel of fortune, yet there is no progression. You are stuck in a cycle. This devil man, and yourself, you're stuck in a cycle. Until one of you breaks it – you will only create what you fear."

When she at last looked up, her voice insisted with no uncertainty. "You should sit back down."

His hair bounced as he landed squarely back in his seat.


	6. Chapter 6

It had been a long time since Gankutsuou had felt anything like this. He held in his hand the power to destroy the little human freight below him, and he had the choice to save them as well.

Killing Edmond would free him from this time wasting life to nowhere, and yet…something tugged at him to hold back.

His palm was hot, beyond words, and the vastness of what it held was sumptuous.

A year since that exchange in the cabin, so much time since that moment of truth. If Cain had only listened to his new first mate, they would not be in this situation. Of course that was the sum of their relationship.

When Cain had insisted on rescuing the sinking pirate crew, Edmond had told him not to. The foolish captain had insisted, and the pirates attacked in the dead of night not twenty-four hours later. Had Edmond not expected the attack and prepared certain members of the crew, they would surely have lost the ship. And yet, when asked, Cain had insisted he did not regret the decision.

"I'd rather take a risk and help someone, only to be hurt, than live my life in fear, and fail to do any good." He'd said.

Gankutsuou didn't like that he couldn't forget that sentence. He soared up, and from a distance the mists of the universe looked like sands in a painstakingly constructed mosaic. How insignificant stars were. A breath would send them reeling.

Interplanetary travel often came with such perils – the instability of stars. That is why Edmond had recommended they stick to their sea voyages. Cain had insisted – they needed the shipping deal.

Laughter, hesitant, still with caution but real enough to see, and feel…Edmond was beginning to embrace who he was, and what was left of him after his life's unpredictable roads.

What am I?

Gankutsuou didn't like that the question nagged at his mind. He didn't like that the thought of Edmond perishing in inferno of nitrogen and helium caused him discomfort.

A twinkle in his vision reminded him of his time limit. Even now the wave of energy had begun. One touch, one blink of the shadow king's eyes would change the events unfolding, and leave him spent and diminished for years.

Edmond could change all he wanted, he could live any life, and be anything.

Gankutsuou frowned, the injustice of his destiny wrinkling his eight eyelids. Was that humanity? Choice…humanity, whatever it was, could be found in Edmond Dantes, but the demon could not see how. Perhaps death had only been lying, but…on the off chance….

For his own selfish reasons the demon reached out and silenced the super nova before it started.


	7. Chapter 7

This is harder than I expected. Didn't think I'd actually cry, but when she said, "I do," in her dress, new wife in tuxedo, both of them so happy and serene - I guess I'm more of a softy than I'd like to admit.

The backyard is flooded in blooms of white roses. Lace and fabric cover the stucco fence of our Italian-style cottage. A white arch hangs over both of their heads.

We didn't have much money, so this is how it ended up. It's simple, yes, but looks great to me!

I recently found out that mother met Jamie when they were kids. However at the time, they were certainly not friends. When everyone grew up and left Marseille, Jamie stayed to take care of her mother and father.

Guess they aren't too happy that she turned out to be a lesbian: they disowned her, and missed the wedding. That really sucks because this was supposed to be a private ceremony with only a few close family members. The only people who shoed up are two of Jamie's friends.

When they leave for their honeymoon I'm alone in the house. I needed to stay home and pack.

Mom didn't want me to move out while she was gone, but I'd like them to come home to their own empty house: full of privacy. This is their life now, and I'll come back once they've had some time to themselves.

I close the blue shutters over the windows. The paint is cracking and rough, and I make a mental note to apply a fresh coat before I leave for Janina. Mom will be okay now - she won't be alone.

* * *

The folds of marble caressed the statue's body in gatherings of exquisite contra Pasto, natural and curvy. A remarkable replica of the Nike (the ancient sculpture of Athena) spread her wings against the wind. Her garments wrapped around her in a frozen yet windswept state, like a snap shot of unearthly beauty. White flicked the granite, as if little pearls or terracotta glass were trapped within. She stood at the nose of Edmond's ship as it rode and sliced through the waves.

Captain Cain slapped his first-mate on the back and nodded in approval.

"We'll put into port in a few days: first to Marseille, and then Le Val for shore leave."

The metal plating that covered the ship reflected light into Edmond's eyes and he tilted his head forward, the cloth over his broad shoulders fluttered in the wind.

"Yes, sir." He mumbled.

Marseille. Home. The last time he had visited it was seven years ago. When they had discovered last week that they were to deliver their last shipment there, before returning to their port of birth, his body had threatened to rebel and jump right over the stern side railing. He forced himself to take a deep and calming breath. Surely nothing would happen.

"We just need to make the drop quickly," he chanted within himself.

"Do you want me to handle the documentation when we get there?" Cain's voice rose in concern.

"No, Captain. I can manage."

He had almost accepted the offer – not looking forward to seeing the infamous city again, but it would take much more time if Cain handled the entry work. The fattening captain was an excellent seaman, but so disorganized and chatty that every time he put his finger into something, it took hours to get it back out.

Edmond glared out at the blue water that parted in waves before their ship. He required haste. Gankutsuou, who had saved their lives over a year ago – several voyages back, had only barely awoken. The crew, thankfully, was unaware of the demon's presence, blissfully oblivious how close they had come to annihilation. In order to keep the demon improving, Edmond had needed more and more of his pills. Without Gankutsuou's energy he felt himself weaken, hunger, and tire. He was susceptible to Vampirisms tendencies that only the pills could quell. Without them he would surely slip into a blood lust, or perhaps a coma, and the amount left dwindled.

He had to get home, to his townhouse in Le Val, and brew a new batch.

"Well alright, if you change you're mind you give me a call." Cain waved of his shoulder.

* * *

This is my last ship tonight, and holy hell I'm tired. It'll be nice to get to Janina and have this kind of work behind me. I'm all packed to go.

Actually I didn't even bother putting my luggage away from my last flight. Tags from Paris still hand around the checkered handles.

And that was a hard trip! I'd fooled myself, I think. I told myself everything, and everyone, would be the same – preserved. I wanted to believe that nothing else would go wrong. Of course that wasn't the case.

Who knew a city could change so much in one lifetime, but I barely recognized my own neighborhood.

We couldn't even sell the house! The bank took it. All our furniture and paintings, the things that seemed so important when I was a child…they were just jumbled into the entry hall. There was a letter…from him, but of course it wasn't for me.

I had a long talk with Franz to, painfully one-sided as it was. The leaves on his tomb rambled terribly when I'd swept them off, and I'd thought it was kind of like when I'd brushed the hair from his eyes. Almost broke down at that, and a few times after, finally did on the way home.

But the good news is I did get to see all my friends again: the ones who are still alive. It felt good to spend so much time with them, and Maximilien and Valentine promised to come visit me while I'm on Janina! Eugenie might even come play for princess Haydee!

The thought cheers me up and I stretch. The Forbin from Le Val pulls into the dock. They are a little faster then other crews. It must be an organized team. That's good. I want to get out of here.

They lower the ramp for me (the lowly government worker) who gets to sign off on the safety and content of the cargo.

I head up the ramp onto the platform. "Welcome aboard sir!" one of the porters greets me. "Better make it quick, if you don't mind me saying, sir. Our first-mate's eager for home port!"

"Le Val, right?" I smile. "I've heard that's a nice city, lots of old timey medieval buildings? Well don't worry; I'll make it quick. You guys don't have any food stuffs so…"

* * *

Edmond barked orders in an authoritative, but charismatic way as he managed the docking process and walked briskly towards the ramp. This was all right, no need to panic. Yes, Marseille looked the same, a traditional bayside village, lush and quaint, but no one from that hellish time was going to be there.

Still he felt a danger, and his nerves frayed with adrenaline as he moved forward to the port and city manager, as if something in him knew what he would find.

The young brunette looked over his shoulder with a friendly, and unsuspecting glance.

Noise on the ship didn't stop. The movement and the bustle didn't rest. And the crew didn't take any sort of notice. But, when each realized the presence of the other the space between them faded. Their surroundings blurred into a disordered gloss, like the colors of a watercolor painting when the brush is too wet.

A feeling lurched up into Edmond's throat, and he nearly stumbled, stopping several feet away from the figure that teetered, motionless, and stunned.

Steps around them confirmed this was indeed reality, and blended voices went about their work in an objectified daze.

Wind teased them, pinching at shirts and pulling at hair, pushing them to move closer.

Edmond, however, refused.

The boy had grown, and matured into a man. Yet he still looked up, shorter by a head, captivated by the icon of his fantasies. His hair, still untamed and simple, fell by eyes of world-weary blue. They maintained the same intrinsic qualities, revealing his thoughts, his loss, and hurt. He was still an open book, even after all his experiences.

Edmond clenched his hands loosely at his side and waited, feeling tremulous in his stance.

To Albert, Edmond looked macabre, a spectacle in the wrong place and wrong moment - an apparition of sorts. Dominating in height, black and flowing hair tied back, brown leather slacks fitting long and lean legs, and a white billowing shirt made a glorious picture next to sun browned skin.

And yet the younger man could not believe it.

A million instincts demanded action; to throw his arms around the former count in passionate and joyful reunion, to berate him into the ground with his fury at his presence after so much time of being 'dead,' and even to run and deny these emotions which he'd been working so hard to put away.

"Hold it together." Edmond thought to himself, seeing recognition as well as doubt, "you can still turn this around."

His eyes shut with that subtle thought concealing expression that Albert had learned to dread.

"A, monsieur Herrera," the porter extended a hand palm up, gesturing to the ranking officer, "Here is the man: first mate Jacques Adnet. My business is completed, quickly, as you'd ordered, sir. I'll take my leave to complete my other duties."

Edmond nodded at him, watching the sailor move away from the corner of his eyes; well aware the Albert had yet to look away, and appeared to not even have taken a breath.

Taking pause to absorb the long-lost presence, remember it, and calm himself he examined the younger through slanted eyes. When he spoke it was after several minutes of hesitation, decisions, and reminders to keep his voice steady and confident.

"Mousier." He offered a hand.

Albert looked at it with a scrunched up expression, as if he'd never been expected to make such a greeting before. More automatically then consciously, he took it.

He inhaled jubilation; there was no ice, no cold in that grip!

"C…coun…Count!?" He tried to cry it, but stuttered meekly instead, amber bearing into blue and intimidating him terribly.

Split between necessity, and the injustice of deceiving this poor youth again, Edmond smiled sadly and withdrew. It took the will of heroes, but he forced himself into leisurely body language.

"Forgive me sir, you are mistaken. I am not aristocrat. My name is Jacques Adnet. Come, mousier, my men are eager to return home, and you must be as well. Shall I tour the inventory with you?"

* * *

I can't look away - in case he looks back. It's important; he needs to see what he's doing to me. I need him to acknowledge me, to accept accountability, and most importantly to be real.

How many nights have I talked to his 'spirit' in that god damn cave off of the cost, how many times have I longed to show him something new, how many times have I wanted him to cradle me in his arms and fucking apologize for ruining the life of my best friend and leaving me alone?

Seven years, seven years I've ached to hear his voice, to have him smile that enchanted fanged grin, to hear him finally say I love you, and here he is - pretending I don't exist.

I am so hurt, and angry, and sick of it.

* * *

It was killing him. With every second Edmond went on about the cargo, gesturing at brown wooden crates as if they had anything to do with this moment, willing himself to believe he was Jacques and not the man Albert plainly saw. God the grief, it concealed him like the lid of a coffin.

"This is kinder." He insisted to himself, "Perhaps if he believes I don't remember he'll give up…"

Gankutsuou laughed, weakly, "Are we talking about the same person?"

Point taken.

* * *

Albert, shoving away his insecurities and injured feelings, embracing his instincts, reached out hesitantly. He caressed the fine arm through its loose sleeve, sliding down, feeling every contour and angle, to grasp the hand he knew.

* * *

He doesn't turn around, but he doesn't yank away either. I can feel my pulse throbbing in my temples, and it takes me forever to speak.

* * *

"How…how could you?" Albert wished his voice hadn't cracked. "After everything you did to me, everything you put me through, you're just going to act like you're someone else?"

The rigid man's chest rouse and fell shallowly, keeping every thought locked tight within.

"You killed Franz, destroyed my family, my friends' families, and you…you let me fall in…you let me fall in love with you instead of with my fiancé! And now you're going to leave me again?"

He had matured indeed, and didn't yell or cry. But the steadiness and safety of his voice did much more damage, though he could not have known it.

"I've thought of almost nothing else for seven long years, did you know that? How much pain you'd been in…I tried so hard to understand you, that's the only reason I'm even in this city! How can you just…."

* * *

His hand squeezes me back, and Edmond, not pretending at last turns, on the spot to look at me.

* * *

Regret and longing darkened the former Count's expression. Years of vulnerability and fears competed with longing and suspicion. Knowing better, chastising himself, he put a breakable arm around the slender and trembling waste. Their lips met, smoothly and exceptionally afraid.

* * *

I am totally ruined. The mind inside me wants to break. I want to fall to the ground, hidden here by stacks and pillars of cargo, crumple to the hard wood planks and shrink into nothingness.

I cannot survive this again.

God, when he kissed me, and then leaned his head on my forehead, the little boy inside me wanted to believe everything would work out. Hope leapt in me, I swelled and shined.

"If I were you," he whispered, cradling my cheek in his hand, still leaning his head on mine, so close and present, "and this man had truly done so much damage as you claim he did, I'd want him to stay dead."

"No," I clutch at his sleeve.

"No!" I scream in my mind.

He walks away, boards his ship, and leaves me behind, on the port, in a city of white washed stones.


	8. Chapter 8

His body language didn't reveal much. Indeed, even as he stared back with the wind, hands resting on the guardrail, posture erect and lifeless, Edmond seemed fine. In gestures he kept his thoughts private, disclosing nothing of the feelings that nearly cracked his body in two.

A hat fell from a nearby sailor's head, but the man grabbed at it - shoving it back on before running towards the helm to shout a question at the navigation's officer.

He barely heard the reply behind him, or the roar of the sea of blue, or the splash of choppy waves as they threatened to swallow the fading outline of Marseille.

"My friend," Generally Gankutsuou wouldn't have bothered getting up, weak and tired as he was, but for this he came to Edmond's side, "are you unhappy?"

Edmond stared into the back of relaxed hands and responded in thought, "that was the right decision, I am sure of it."

"Was it also humane?"

The other workers pulled at sails, swabbed the decks, and chatted loudly over their chores as the sun continued to set.

"I think so."

"So…humans do breed pain, even when trying to do the opposite."

Not in the mood for such a conversation Edmond pulled away from the railing and took towards his quarters. Of course he couldn't really walk away from the demon, but the action's meaning was loud enough.

"It's interesting," Gankutsuou pretended not to notice Edmond's irritation, "Neither one of you seem happy with that decision."

Walls creaked as he fell into his hammock. They would arrive in port shortly, but not for several more hours. His body was tired, but at least none of the crew would bother him here.

"If you're trying to make him happy…I can do that. You're wasting your time on this boat, and you're not helping Albert."

"If you don't like it then leave. You can take the immortality away any time you like, remember?"

He chuckled, a deep and eerie sound, "But this is my human decision, as was saving you, remember? But you know, I don't feel any differently. Well, not any better anyways. I do feel weak - worse than I did before. And I find it interesting that after your human decision, neither you nor Albert seem any happier either."

"It isn't about happiness…I will not relive the past." There wasn't any point in arguing, and he didn't really care to, but the emotion was going to come out somewhere, one way or another.

His internal companion grinned. It had been a long time since they had bantered this way. "I had thought, for a moment, that maybe 'human' means the ability to love someone more than yourself. But, then I realized something: If you were really doing this for the boy, you'd have given him what he wanted– you would have stayed. In the end, this is still for you, Edmond."

The swaying of his netted bed mimicked the rise and fall of the ship. Water slapped the outside of the hull, a sound they had grown accustom to and barely noticed.

"Cavern king," Edmond finally answered after several minutes of listening to the noise he so often ignored, "when I was naïve I would have said humanity was the ability to love unconditionally, sacrificing, or the knowledge of right and wrong. After the betrayal of everyone I cared for, when we met, I would have called humanity deceit and lies. Albert, out of a misguided fixation, proved to me that unconditional love does exist, although rarely and probably with pathology.

After seven years, I may have an answer: your right. As you said, we are weakness. We are want. We suffer from the 'never enough' complex, and we probably do more wrong than we ever do right. But I think that is what death wanted you to see. That's all. There is no 'unseen' quality that will redeem this species. We are frail, and pathetic."

His host rolled over, determined not to continue the conversation.

Gankutsuou made a content sound and began to fade back within his host, his energy flickering like a candle.

* * *

I toss around the decision for a while, trying to make up my mind. If I tell her she'll rush to France, leaving everything behind. If I don't she'll be furious, and possibly hate me for it.

I work up the courage to call, and it turns she doesn't even believe me.

"Albert," I haven't heard her voice in so long, and I forgot how refined and high it is, but I don't think that right now because I'm completely neurotic with panic, "Albert," she repeats as if trying to calm me down, she can hear how fast I'm breathing, "he's dead. Believe me, I wish that wasn't the case…but it's truth."

"No Haydee!" shit, keep forgetting she's a princess, "you're majesty…I saw him, he touched me, he even admitted he was the count...sort of."

She laughs softly, still trying to sooth me, "You can call me Haydee."

Damn karma. Is this what I get? I didn't listen to what everyone told me about the Count, so now no one's going take my word?

"Haydee, for seven years I haven't had one hallucination, one denial, or even one single moment where I've invented him. I've never done anything like this before. What reason do you have not to trust me?"

The tiny phone in my mother's house has a blue blinking light. It alternates with a green one when you're on a call. It takes thirty long flashes of green for her to respond to me.

"Do you have any idea how many nights I laid awake, hating you?"

Um – that wasn't the response I was hoping for.

"You were the last one he spoke to, you were the one that he loved most, and you brought him back, not me. Isn't that enough for you? Now you'll torture me with these delusions?"

That was not what I needed to hear. I feel like I'm a peeling onion.

Hating me? Really? I'd only ever envied her. With all the time she had with the count, wondering if he'd ever done the things to her that I wanted him to do to me…how could she hate me when she was the one who'd had him?

I almost hang up the phone without saying goodbye, but even after what she said, that would be too rude.

"I'm sorry to have bothered you, Princess, and I apologize that I will not be coming to Janina."

I hear something bump, it sounds like a teacup or bowl being set on a table, "I don't hate you now Albert, please don't misunderstand me. I was trying to express how often I felt jealous of you. It wasn't a consistent feeling. But the truth is, I'm very fond of you! It's been years… and I'm adjusted now. But, I would have given him everything to keep him happy."

This is the first time we've spoken about the Count since that summer. How exactly did I expect her to feel?

The wind pushes against a shutter and moans.

"I know. Believe me, I never would have taken him from you."

"But you did, perhaps without meaning to. Maybe he would have let me stay at his side, maybe you would have encouraged him to, and I would have done so - out of something desperate, but how could he have said any more loudly what he really wanted? …Please come to Janina, Albert. I've been looking forward to you're arrival. Clearly, we need both need that."

Even now she's looking out for me, just as she did before. Is that because she was really looking out for what the Count wanted? All along I thought she'd liked me for me, and that our friendship was made stronger by loving the same person, but maybe that wasn't true.

Well, it's my turn. Even if he wants you and not me, I'll find him Haydee. I'll find him for both of us.

"I can't yet. He's real, and I know I saw him. I know I heard him speak. I'll call you when I have some proof."

I'm no sure if she thinks I'm crazy, or if she's starting to hope, but she tells me, or actually snaps at me, that she's sending Baptistin to collect me.

* * *

In the grocery stores, in the larger cities, they dipped their fruits in wax to make them shiny. He preferred the produce here; in fact he preferred everything here.

Perhaps that was because it made it easier to forget the memory of tender lips pressed against his own, and all of the events in Paris.

Funny, Edmond thought, he went to Paris to undo his life in Marseille, and now he ran to Le Val to hide from Paris.

When his shopping was concluded, Edmond picked up a few durable bags and aimed for home.

It was difficult to manage them, with the awkwardly long loaf of bread and the various sizes and shapes of the vegetables, but eventually they settled in his arms.

Normally he didn't by this much, but he'd be home for a while.

Captain Cain had been upset when Edmond had refused the last voyage out of port, but only one of his life-giving flowers had survived - the rest had taken some kind of fungus. He had to stay and tend to the crop.

There wasn't any time to worry about the consequences of that choice - he had to ward off the blood lust (all the more potent without Gankutsuou's strength) and normal food only provided half of the nourishment he needed. Even with one flower, he was going to have a desperate month.

"So you're not moving after all?" his landlady had asked earlier that day as she watered the flowerpots in her garden.

She owned a block of yellow buildings, each a town house of three levels with tiny front yards and villa style windows. They were crammed together, walls touching, each one only big enough for a small family. They were old, fantastically charming, and vines wore at the paint as they climbed over the doorways.

"No, I am sorry for the confusion. Yesterday I thought I had everything in order, but there is a …complication." It was safer to stay here and try to bring his garden back to life rather than relocate and start all over, even if that meant it would be easier for Albert to find him.

"That's fine. Just let me know when you're going out of town so I can send my kid over to house sit again. It's a good responsibility for her."

* * *

I thought it would be harder to find him. Hadn't even started asking around, and there he is, beautiful as ever, just shopping. Leaving me didn't even bother him. He can continue on with life, and I…I'm pathetically chasing after him. But, here we are, so…

***

"Count!" Edmond froze, the voice unmistakable.

Albert winced, regretting the slip, he corrected himself, stopping and blushing at his feet, only a foot or two away. "Edmond…"

He didn't know weather or not to put down his groceries.

The boy's face was blushing red and he couldn't bring himself to look up, "I'm…I…"

It was, honestly, adorable. But, Edmond was quick on his feet, and a fabulously devious thinker. He recovered quickly, "Mousier Herrera I believe, what brings you to Le Val?"

Visibly shaken, the boy glared at a lamppost. He played along, but his voice was bitter, "I'm on vacation, Mousier Adnet, please forgive me. I must have mistaken you for Edmond once more. It's just that, you do remind me of someone I knew once. Someone I cared for very much, but I guess he's dead now."

He adjusted his grip on the bags, the fabric denting under his fingers and arm. Responding as he would if they had truly never met before, he softened his voice. "I'm sorry to hear that."

The sentence betrayed more of his feelings than he'd intended, and Albert finally looked up, clenching his fists. "It was seven years ago, so, I should probably stop hoping."

"That is….an unbearably long time to search for a ghost."

"Yeah, but this man." He spoke with significance. "Told me never to give up hope."

Edmond softened, and he looked around the crowd quickly, catching the eyes of the few who nodded at him as they passed.

"He was clearly important to you…I do hope you find him."

"No," there was bitterness, so full of venom, in that hiss, "you don't.

Startled by the sudden fury, he bent over and put his groceries down, freeing his hands. They settled with a crinkle. "What exactly do you want Master Herrera? You are clearly hurt, and angry. If it is revenge you seek, I am sure this man would think you entitled."

"After everything your revenge did to me, you'd think I'd do the same to you?! You think I'd ruin someone else's life the way mine was ruined? Haven't you learned anything? Did you even care that you hurt me, even a little?!"

There were a million ways he could have responded. He would accept whatever rage the boy had to give. It was fair, and he had expected it from the first conception of his plan. Every man was entitled to the same feelings, the same rage, and the same revenge that Edmond had sought, if they were willing to reach for it.

He crossed his arms over his chest. "Then what do you want?"

Something panicky crawled between them. "What, what do you think?!"

"I imagine you would want closure, it sounds like you have unanswered questions."

"Please…please stop this. I wanted, for so long, to talk to you…please stop." His voice was muted, almost unheard next to the village noises.

Edmond reached for his groceries, turning his back. It was all he could to do to keep himself from grabbing the boy to comfort him, or repeat his mistake at the port in Marseille. He left without a word.


	9. Chapter 9

I'm sorry it took so long to post this chapter, I had it done for a while but I wanted to get a bit further ahead in the story before I put it up. The next chapter will not take this long, I hope. Thanks for all the reviews! That's why writers post their work. :3 This chapter is rated M or NC 17. By reading it you assert that you are old enough and mature enough to read it. - oh, and apparently this site has been erasing my markers, which I had used to designate the shift in narration. Now that I am aware of this I shall see to it this does not happen again, and when I get the time I'll fix the older chapters. Thanks for putting up with it. XD

A man, around the age of sixty, woke to banging on his front door at three in the morning. Grumbling about the time of night, he tied a red and yellow plaid bathrobe around his aged body and stepped slowly down the stairs. He waited until his left foot joined his right on each platform before taking the next, holding onto the railing for fear of falling and breaking his hip. That had happened to his cousin Constance in Tuscany - nearly killed the woman.

The banging got louder, and someone young started you yell. "Edmond! S…Yous sbastard! Open the door!"

William Finnagin, for that was the man's name, had never tolerated bullying in his life, and no way - no how - was some kid going yell drunken insults at his door, in his neighborhood, at this time of night. He tore the wood panels back; hands now holding the shotgun he kept in the umbrella stand.

The young man (no older than twenty-three) swayed on the cement steps. His white collared shirt, half tucked in, and black dress pants almost looked respectable, but his hair went eight different directions and dark rings circled both eyes. He took a swig from a brown bag in his hand, which nearly made him fall over, and looked back up with a daft expression. One of his cuff links fell into a dirt flowerbed and he wobbled after it, seeming not to have registered that the door had opened. William had plenty of time to get a sense, literally a smell, of what the boy had been doing all night, and Vodka was one of his least favorite odors.

Cheeks flushed and nose rosy, the boy leaned in to get a better look, lifting the bag and giving it an accusing glare, "Edmond?"

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Where'sz Sedmond?"

William growled and pointed his weapon forward. "There's no Edmond here."

Staggering back, turning the wrong way twice before finding the house numbers, the younger man gave them the same look he had the bag. Then he wound his way back up to the door. "Sorry sir…s'liar goes by And…Adnet Jacques."

"Hell," His voice was anything but friendly. "You've got the completely wrong side of the street you drunken idiot!"

"Sthank you thir." He made a clumsy salute and somehow, pathetically, found his way to the right house.

Edmond hid behind the shutters of his upstairs bedroom, squeezing his sinuses in utter humiliation. The same banging and yelling, which had disrupted the whole neighborhood only moments before, began again on his door.

"Edmonds scount!"

He'd pretend not to be home. There weren't any lights on, maybe he could get away with it?

"SNADNET! FUCKER!"

Glass shattered, and something (he presumed the bottle) hit the side of his house. Then, thankfully, there was silence. It unnerved him, and he ventured to arch his back and peer up over his shoulder from where he had been couched below the window. He couldn't see anything. Eventually, in silence, he made his way to the door, crouching beneath windows and peered out the peephole.

Nothing.

With some measure of caution he turned the lock and pulled the handle back. Albert lay unconscious, spread out in a ridiculous way, one foot up on the cobble stone steps.

Mr. Finnagin still stood across the street, holding his shotgun at the ready. "Everything okay over there, Jacques?"

There were several other people who had poked their head out at the noise, his landlady among them.

"Fine." He coughed, "just fine. Sorry about this."

"What's wrong with him?" Finnigin's wife called over his shoulder.

"Think quickly" Gankutsuou laughed in his ear. "I've got nothing."

"He's just….a friend of mine. He's been having a few problems…I didn't know he drank. Sorry."

"Yeah, well, he can't go around banging on doors at all hours of the night and waking up decent folk." William shook the black barrel in his hands for good measure, "problems or not."

"Yes of course." Edmond winced, "I most certainly agree. Thank you so much, I'll drag him in now so we can all get back to sleep. Trust me, I'll take care of this. It won't happen again."

The smell of crisp cotton and clean sheets, coupling with the warm spring sun and pollen-filled flower buds created a remarkable environment to wake to. Down comforters and pillows on a barely used mattress, cozy and soft, welcomed Albert in a strange but safe feeling room. He grudgingly pushed back the burnt umber cloth as the hush of the nearby ocean called him lazily from sleep.

It was a tidy room, handsome, worn, and every bit as charming as one would expect in a humble seaside village. The oak wardrobe, bordered in black metal, beside a matching desk and chair, reminded him of the furniture in the antique shops in Paris. However, the elegantly carved wood and weaving Anglo-Saxon knots had certainly not embellished his hotel room yesterday, and he wondered at them.

He had, of course, no idea about his location. The last thing Albert remembered from the night before was meeting that book-keeper, the one who worked in the mayor's office. They had spent an hour or so complaining about love affairs. After commiserating, and several shots, everything had gone black. Hoping he would not find himself in that man's bedroom he looked down, and (relieved) found all of his clothing on his body except for his missing shoes.

Let it never be said Albert could not hold his drink. Even after a roaring night of swimming senses, he felt no hangover and no dehydration - although he desperately wanted a toothbrush.

In the hallway he found a bathroom, towel, and unopened toiletries laid out on the counter, which he immediately made us of, and assumed he had stayed a night in the inn where he had drank with the book-keeper, or found his way to a small bed and breakfast. After showering and grooming he set down the stairs and wandered into the smells of breakfast cooking and the sweet sounds of a young woman singing an aria.

Edmond looked up from his seat at the round kitchen table, a book and apple in his hands, the high and swelling melodies issuing from an old-timey record player behind him. The sizzling food and fresh buttermilk biscuits, which had commanded Albert's attention only a moment before, suddenly vanished from his focus, and he desperately wished he'd spent a little more time freshening up.

A self conscious hand smoothed his hair and he straightened his posture ever so slightly, mouth hanging a little ways open.

Edmond couldn't help himself; upon seeing the flustered boy loose his breath, he smiled. "Are you hungry?" It was an awkward way to say good morning to someone you attempted to leave behind only twenty-four hours ago, but it was better than a rude nothing. He reached over his shoulder and turned down the music.

Albert felt dizzy, suddenly ill. He twisted his wrinkled cuff and didn't take the offered seat. "How, how did I get here?"

"Honestly," Edmond laughed, his lips spreading into a half smile, bearing only one tasteful fang, "I have no idea." He looked so perfect, so inviting with his fascinating lips and imposing frame, long legs crossed and ashen hair pulled back. It was too much of a surprise.

The town house's main floor had multiple levels; one step led down into the kitchen from the hallway where he stood. Albert sank onto it, blind to the flowering window seal and the blue sky beyond it, to the mosaic of stars and moons on the flooring of the room, and to the strange potted flowers sitting just outside of the opened backdoor. It was at Edmond he looked, worried, and too cautious to do anything else.

And yet, the latter remained that passive, calm, seemingly reposed man, so obviously unaffected by their past.

"To be perfectly honest," his rich voice was provocative, easy, relaxed and deep. "You visited me during the night, and woke up the whole neighborhood."

"Please tell me you're joking."

"I'm afraid I'm not… Do you make a habit of drinking?"

"Only when someone breaks my heart." He glared up willfully.

Edmond tilted his head, biting into his apple, watching the boy. He swallowed, taking a painfully long time to answer. "What else did you expect?"

Bewildered hurt quickly joined anger. What did he expect him to do? Was Albert meant to roll over and take it, like this was normal, to be _expected_? All the things Edmond had done since they'd met, all the things he'd been feeling, he just should have accepted? No way, not this time, not again. "Where the fuck do you get off?" He was done begging.

"You show up in Paris, let me fall in love with you, pine after you, make a fool of myself, only to tear apart everything and everyone that I cared about just to leave me broken and alone! You killed my best friend, and then, instead of killing me, you let me love you all over again! In your dying breath you told me to remember you, to remember your name!"

He was slowly standing now, stalking forwards. "What did you say, when I asked if everything was a lie? 'Edmond Dantes" was a dead man? Then, when you died, you took it all back! Only apparently you didn't really, you were just somewhere out there in the world playing with my head all over again!"

Edmond was too intimidating, he couldn't make it all the way across the room, and stopped halfway to the table, shaking in balled up rage.

"Now here you are, seven years later, after I finally stop thinking about you every single lonely night, and you don't even look me in the eye and acknowledge me? Back in Paris, I never tried to dismiss your pain, not when I found out about it! I never tried to justify what those people did to you! You'd have hated me if I'd even tried to defend my father's actions, and I'd never dream of it, so how can you just pretend that everything you did to me never happened?"

Edmond's face stayed neutral, betraying nothing of his churning thoughts. He leaned onto the table; its dark cherry coloring and deep rivulets reminded him of cracking stone. When he finally spoke, his voice was even, "Is that what you want? Revenge? You're entitled to it, you know, for whatever that's worth."

"No." he wanted to collapse again, but managed to stand firm. "Of course not. I'd never repeat that cycle."

"Hm, you might - given the right circumstances. Then what do you want, Albert? Contrition? Apologies?" He put the apple onto a napkin; the cool green of its skin complimented the breaking red, like a painting in oils.

"No! No, that's not it! But, god, don't you think I deserve one? I mean, fuck, I…how can you fucking pretend you don't know me? How can you expect me to go on like nothing happened?"

"Then answer the question." Edmond rose, his calm presence easily overpowering even the enormous emotions within the boy. "What do you want? What was the point of following me to le Val?"

"I" his eyes burned, "I was in love with you!"

The quiet aria silenced with a snap as the taller man's long and pointed claws tripped the machine's power switch to off. He crossed to the window and shut it tightly, doing the same to back door, rounding with a stern and sincere expression. "Seven years have passed, and I am old enough to be your father."

"But I still…" Albert's shoulders tensed, bracing for the rejection he completely expected. "…want to love you."

It took a long time for those intoxicating lips to answer. "You want to be in love with the count, Albert, because he made you feel worthless…he and I are not the same person."

It took a few panicking seconds to counter. "but, I spent all this time in Marseille trying to figure out who the real Edmond Dantes was!"

"Perhaps you did, perhaps now you know him, but that man is not who I am either."

Out of the corner of his eyes Albert watched to set of black trousers cross the space between them and stop merely a reach away. "Are you saying," His voice shook, but he steadied it, older and wiser than he had been that fateful summer, "you don't love me?"

- 0 - 0 - 0 -

My heart hurts, literally, like someone's strangling it in my chest. It's like there's a strange deadened lump where it ought to be. The feeling spreads into my throat, and I want to cough, but can't.

He's standing close to me now, I can hear him breathing a little bit faster than he was before, I think.

God, he's taking his time about this, but I can't look up.

He's hesitating, and probably going to throw me out.

What am I thinking? What am I doing here? Edmond's been trying to tell me to leave him alone, and I get drunk and stalk him? What's wrong with me? Why can't I walk away?

'I still want to love you.' God, it must have sounded like I'm a pathetic desperate kid.

- 0 - 0 - 0 -

Edmond felt every single nerve in his body straining. He wanted to take him, claim him, throw him onto his bed and show him the true weight of his actions seven years ago; what man he had released in his garden below the chateau.

The things he could do to this boy; make him mewl in desperate want, cry out in heated passion, and break him. His keen senses allowed him to smell the physical reactions behind that thin layer of skin, the way his noradrenergic system responded to his anxiety, pumping his heart faster; how his quick shallow breaths pumped sweet smelling blood to his amygdale, all the electrical reactions rendering him fearful and helpless.

The weakness in his heart, together with the weakness of his vampire hunger did not silence the reaction his own body had to such awareness, and though his sense of morality told him not to, knowing he would regret it, Edmond reached out one hesitant finger. It slid along Albert's jaw, taking time to feel every soft and flawless centimeter. His nail brushed the shuddering skin, and made the passionate youth afraid to move.

It slid over that famed spot on the neck, the one that made him salivate, "Albert…" his voice sounded sad, almost, "I died for you, didn't I? How can you question what I felt?" It took all his will, but he pulled back so they were no longer touching, "Unfortunately, life is not so easy." He smiled, and closed his eyes momentarily (his favorite action for covering how he felt.)

"Why not? If you loved me once, maybe you could again?" Albert knew the suggestion sounded frantic, but didn't care. He was in the presence of the one person he'd wanted more than anything else for almost a decade, the oxygen to his drowning worth.

"…I didn't say…" Edmond almost bit the words back, doing his best to ignore the monstrous proclivities of his kind, "that I had ever stopped." The admission had been small, but potent.

"Then why are you doing this? Why have you behaved this way?"

Explaining one's demons is never an easy task, particularly when that demon is a very real entity thumping away at your conscious mind.

The boy searched him, waiting, desperate for an answer. It did not come.

- 0 - 0 - 0 -

I will not let it end this way. Deceit killed everything, the Count's lies, and my father's.

At least, I'll try. I made a promise to myself – to Franz! I will never be afraid again. I won't let fear stop me now.

- 0 - 0 - 0 -

It was a startling kiss, no matter how soft and shy. Albert had stood with such determination, grabbed him fiercely, but then shirked. His lips gave only the touches he had learned, tender and innocent. They were soft, and addicting.

Edmond's response was less mundane. He'd held back too many times now, and lust of more than one kind tore at his resolve.

That was not the only thing that tore. Albert's shirt, twisted mercilessly by clawed fingers, soon shredded as he was pulled harshly forward and into groping, possessive bites.

Hands wandered about his body, down his thighs, pressing them together as a mouth moved injuriously against his own.

An appropriate amount of fear, it was a sudden change after all, made Albert swoon and quake. He whimpered and tried to draw back, to catch his breath and thoughts, but a clawed hand at his neck -straying up into his hair- and another at his waste held him in place.

His hands came between them out of instinct, trying to win just a little distance, and he trembled.

A deep, seductive, and intoxicating chuckle passed by his ear. The sensation of breath over sensitive skin made Albert want to moan, and the tongue he had been so fascinated with ran over a marvelous spot on his neck.

"Edmond?"

He seemed to come back to himself, a little, and his reply was a much needed, softer, and aching kiss.

The moan from Edmond's mouth was of melting wax, or butter, as he held back a fair amount of aggression. He reached for Albert, ground on him, keeping the pressure kind rather than injurious out of shier determination.

It was not unpleasant, but difficult to match, and Albert sensed that responding at all in kind would undue what small amount of control that remained. Something wasn't right, something he could not identify. The count's eyes were clouded, distant, and far away. They were starving, furious, dangerous, but his hands and kisses, while bruising, were tentative, pleasuring, and clever. They did marvelous things to his back and ass, cupping his balls between rigorous grinding thrusts.

There was no cautious care, no exploration, no waiting to see how his touches would be received, and utterly nothing at all gentlemanly. However, the sensations and the sudden flood of self worth, validation, and relief quite dissolved any insight Albert might have drawn about that.

His shirt was gone. Edmond pulled back, looking down at pale skin on a slender body, soft, warm, and alive. He could feel Albert's arousal gaining foot over his fear, his heart rate slowed from agitation to an erotic pace, steady and quickened. His mind literally perceived the body's responses beneath him, how the scrotum tensed and blood rushed through other areas, which would soon grow hard.

"Do you want this?" Albert asked, trying to push Edmond back enough to look into him.

The dark hair, framing a beautiful angular face, off set by eyes of light amber…his goatee, his long lean figure and ample frame…Albert had always wanted to touch and kiss this man.

Fangs grazed over now his bare shoulder, and he moaned. The sound encouraged Edmond, and he slowly started pushing him back, towards the stairs, towards his bed – the only affirmation he offered.

Despite the veracious want quivering in his mind and soul, Edmond's will was strong. He would not pulverize Albert. No, he would somehow remain civilized, and control himself enough to be accommodating.

Their mouths found one another once more. Edmond licked the edge of Albert's bottom lip and bit down softly. The boy almost lost his footing, but he was small and light, easy to pluck him from the ground. Eyes glazed over, the reactions in glands and testosterone causing a flutter from within. It gave his features a lovely sort of fuzzy expression.

Edmond wanted to touch him, to feel him, to run his fingers over every part Albert. He wanted to slide his nails over his skin, watch him tremble and squirm in a sensation of a millions flickering nerves.

They made it up the oak staircase without scratching the paint, Edmond held him off the ground and up against the wall at the top so he could once again ravage the brunette youth.

When Edmond kissed his neck, almost biting, breathing deeply, Albert looked blankly around. He saw the hall closet, the decorative paintings, the banister, yet registered none of it. A hand on his groin made the surroundings fade completely from sight. He closed his eyes tight and gasped at the feel of a large and long fingered hand outlining his groin through his tightening pants.

But he didn't want to be out done. He pulled up on the bigger man's cream shirt, insistently, but with considerably more gentility than his own had received. Edmond complied, helping Albert remove it. His arms stretched, reaching above his head. His chest flexed and skin stretched easily over his abdomen and ribs.

Before the former count could pin him again he flipped about, having been released during the removal of the shirt, and pushed him backwards, biting down and sucking on his nipple, rubbing the other, and finding the impressive length behind Edmond's own trousers with his boyish hips.

The vampire's skull thumped back against the wall in a mess of long wavy hair, and his hands wound round and clawed at Albert's back, leaving little red streaks, probably bruises later, but not actually breaking the skin.

For a while they both doubted they would make it to the actual bed, but Edmond soon lost his patience, grabbing him, literally lifting him again, and (finding the plush and fluffy comforter) immediately tossed him down.

He stripped Albert of his pants, treating them almost as roughly as the shirt, and discarded his own before the youth could think what do in response. Neither of them had much sex these days, and so both were ill prepared. Due to the lack of lube the agile boy suddenly found himself moaning, squirming, and howling, face down, to the administrations of a quick tongue over his entrance. One hand steadied him Albert at his thigh, the other pumped his dick intuitively. Quick, then slower. Tighter, only to tease him by again changing pace.

When he was wet enough he found himself flipped, almost rudely, back around to look up at a sight he couldn't really believe. Only moments ago they had been arguing in the kitchen, right? Yesterday Edmond wouldn't even admit to knowing him, yet here they were, gloriously naked, and gorgeous.

Edmond's was definitely the more muscular of the two, his body hardened from a hard life, from manual labor, and probably (undisclosed to the boy) a little help from Gankutsuo. Albert had the body of a young man, lithe, slender, defined like a swimmer, and smooth.

However, he had only a moment to examine him, for the former count soon leaned forward and wrapped his mouth around a nicely sized and well shaped head. His hand coiled around the small of his back, lifting him slightly, and sucking him deeply.

The boy threw his head back and gripped he sheets, whimpering. Despite the presence of two very sharp fangs, he was not nicked nor damaged. Edmond held his body firmly in place to keep his squirming minimal, and flipped his tongue in circles, playing with Albert's balls as he did so – tugging gently. They were hairy, but in a fine and managed layer. Edmond made sure to run his teeth along the base of Albert's penis, disturbing the hairs, grinning at the reaction - that of a startled cry.

Honestly, he'd never done this with a man before, but a timid lack of confidence was not his style. He'd had more than enough women to know what felt good, and fucked more than enough of them to get the logistics of what was coming next.

Albert cried out, gripping at Edmond's hair to pull him down harder and faster onto his cock.

Luckily the former count was able to relax his throat, a natural at anything he set his mind to, but the smell of blood pumping nearly made him bite down, and instead he pulled back, quickly, panting.

There was a small sound of disappointment, but it was muffled when the count shifted underneath him, raising his hips again, moving a hand to guide his penis to Albert's puckered entrance.

It took a few attempts, a little patience, and slow pushes, but when he finally filled him, neither could do much more than gasp, mouths held open in surprised little oh's. They made eye contact, in that moment of complete connection, and Albert stroked the tan angular cheek, pulling Edmond down into a kiss, which pushed the bigger man's penis further into him.

He gasped as it put pressure on his prostate. It was a sensation similar to, but different from the explosive edge in his dick. It sent tremors into him, rather than the ones that wanted to jump out. His eyes closed tight for a moment and he didn't move, holding his whimpering breath.

"God Edmond." He managed. "I didn't think it would feel this good." He arched his head back and moaned, initiating the thrusts by gently rolling his hips.


	10. Chapter 10

Le Val, at night, was a beautiful thing. The empty streets and suppressed quiet cast a spell over the daunting cliffs and expansive beaches. Soft glowing lights lazed gently away from sparsely placed lanterns, and overhead the wraith-like stars and moon bathed the walls of the city in gentle blue. Nestled along the coast of mighty France; it was one of a kind, both elegant and quaint.

Surrounded by midnight, Edmond sat on his porch and watched the flickering of a lighthouse in the distance. As the bulb within the tower completed massive rotations, it winked over an otherwise indiscernible sea, for the blackened water melted seamlessly with sky.

He tapped his fingers against his arm, absentmindedly mimicking the distant rhythm of the beacon, and counted the sound of distant waves washing up and down the shore.

Albert had left this afternoon; gone back to his hotel. Edmond had promised to receive him once more this evening, for they had much to discuss. However, the young man had yet to return, and Edmond's instinct to vanish had filled him with every passing hour. After all, 'by the way, I'm a vampire' was not easily softened.

"You know you don't have to tell him." Gankutsuou murmured sleepily. "He'd never notice."

It was a tempting notion, but most likely unwise, "Lying to Albert has accomplished nothing thus far, I doubt it would profit anything besides prolonging this foolishness."

The demon chuckled, which took considerable effort. "True, he's very persistent."

"He misunderstands my character." Edmond brushed away a spot of dust on the sleeve of his coat, "Our values don't align – the sooner he sees this the better."

"Then tell him you're not interested. Why go to the trouble?"

It took him a long time to answer, during which a spat of wind disturbed the stillness, chilling him slightly. "It's worth the trouble."

Gankutsuou snickered and Edmond laughed at himself, the equivalent of raising his hands in surrender. "Alright, I'll admit, it's nice to be cared for, but we both know love is only an illusion, a construct to explain physiological urges and mental attachment. I learned not to believe in love years ago."

The demon shrugged; or rather, Edmond perceived the mental image of such action. "So you say, but I've always believed in love."

"Come again?"

"Well naturally – otherwise why would I seek out hosts consumed by hate and revenge? Those who love freely are difficult to control, but hate is easy to twist."

Images of a spider eyed, tall, and violently colored creature standing in line for the latest's romance novel seemed wrong, very wrong. Even more wrong was the notion that said creature was openly divulging his manipulative tactics, things he had jealously guarded in the past. "How extraordinarily unlike you, don't you tend to play such things pretty close to the chest?"

"I think we're past such games. Death took all the fun out of this arrangement. I'm here to solve a philosophical problem. At this point, controlling you won't help me reach the answer any faster. Besides, I'm tired."

A single cynical snort escaped from Edmond, and he stood, entering his home. "So, in the spirit of revealing motivations, tell me: why exactly do you want a body?"

"None of your business." He grinned.

"Well, that's more like it. You had me worried. But I wonder... The two of us have fumbled along, without direction, for the last seven years. We're no closer to resolving anything than we've ever been. We need to visit death. I feel as if we are getting nowhere and about to make the same mistakes. Do you know if there is a way to contact him, or would it be more correct?"

Gankutsuou grinned, attention immediately returning. "You mean besides killing someone or dying ourselves? Yes, of course you do. Well, it's rather easy. If you sleep, I'll take you."

"Fine, I don't think Albert is coming tonight, so let's use the time for something productive."

0-0-0-0

Haydee's robes were a brilliant splash of elegant color, as always. The patterns of blooming plants and little birds enriched her beauty in a kind of regal gaudiness that somehow flattered her small and petite frame.

Despite her obvious agitation, she brushed a dainty pale hand through the strands of long tidy hair by her shoulders, and smiled comfortingly at Albert across the room. They were on her ship, and she had traveled all the way from Janina due to Baptistin's last report.

"So, Edmond still lives." Her voice, always radiant, failed to hide her feelings on that matter, excitement, fear, and hurt.

Albert continued stirring his tea, having yet to lift or drink from the cup.

The famous harp of the princess sat across the room on a decorative pillow. She had played it upon his arrival, filling the room with reassuring, but empty sounds.

"You know," she toyed with the pendant about her neck, the light flashed deeply and refracted as the angle of the stone changed, "part of my heart praised Gankutsuou for keeping our beloved Count alive, and part of me hated him for the way he grew colder. He asked me, once, if I thought he was a terrible man. There was once a time he felt remorse, in the beginning, but the more he gave himself to revenge and hate, the more the human soul faded and the demon grew."

Albert withdrew his hand, and the spoon eventually stopped twirling within the cup.

"Albert, we must not be naïve. If Edmond is alive, Gankutsuou lives as well. No human could come back from the dead. In fact, I would not be surprised if Gankutsuou is all that lives within Edmond's body now."

"With all due respect, your highness," Albert asserted, though meekly, and with reserve, "I have spent some time with him, and I'm certain it was not Gankutsuou."

Her brow furrowed, and she turned to view the scenery from her window, the train of her silk kimono gracefully rippling as she moved. "How can you be sure? Did he offer any explanation to his miraculous survival?"

"No, but he's been hiding from me, he finally admitted who he was today. We haven't had that much time to. . .follow that up yet."

Bertuccio folded his arms over his chest and widened his stance, looking as powerful and serious as ever. "My lady, if I may interrupt, if Gankutsuou were in control I doubt he'd be living in Le Val. He'd seek out the crowded streets and wealth of a major city. He'd probably be ruling it by now."

"I suppose that it true. Still, we must be cautious. If Edmond is alive, I will not loose him again." Haydee's words contained a bite. "I am sure you all agree."

She returned to the side of the elegant bravura table on which Albert had set his tea. With a hand upon his cheek she coaxed him to look at her. His eyes were swollen and his face red.

The room was larger than one might expect of a parlor on a ship, but perhaps not those belonging to royalty, and despite the comfortable appearance the walls were metal, causing her voice to echo, "When you told me he lived, my heart both did and did not want to believe it, but here we are, and I am glad. Whatever happens Albert, if Edmond lives, I will see to it Gankutsuou does not destroy him again. We must confront the demon."

"My answer is still the same. No. Not without Edmond's permission. And I know you will had me followed, you know where he is, so you don't need me."

Her hand tightened slightly before dropping back to her lap. Her unusual eyes held his with an imperial force, but softened as the seconds passed. Years of ruling Janina had made her tough, but she had not lost the sensitive kindness or gentle demeanor of her youth.

"We must know if Gankutsuo lives, Albert. He could be controlling Edmond, hurting him, changing him, or worse. Who knows what terrible things he is going to do to the people of this city. If the demon lives, nothing good can come of it. I have a friend, well, a consultant really. She deals with issues of the paranormal and is famous all throughout the galaxy. I will ask her to visit me here, and will arrange for Edmond, and you, to meet her without giving my position away. If Gankutusou is there, she will know. I am sure that if any of us tried to take him, the demon would suspect something. Your innocence is our secret weapon. Gankutsuou would never suspect you. If I promise not to confront him, will you help us?"

Overwhelmed by the day's events and eager to return to Edmond, Albert twitched and looked around. Though his eyes fell upon remarkable paintings, some by Janina's most famous artists, as well an impressive assortment of delicate plates and rare trinkets, he saw none of them. His eyes looked to the window, past it, as if trying to perceive a solution in the obscured view.

"I could just ask him."

"He lied to you before, and Gankutsuou certainly would. Gankutsuou may even force him to deceive you, even if he did not wish to, which is my foremost concern. No, I think this is the only way to make sure Edmond is all right.

Eternal dusk and a purple sunset splashed across the murky world of Edmond's dreaming mind.

Astral projection produced, to his surprise, remarkably real and authentic stimulation. As his demon guide heralded a distinct and vociferous sound into a conglomerate of blurring images, he examined his hands. They appeared normal, as if he had entered his dreams physically as well as mentally, and even bore the distinct lines and circular patterns on his fingers and palms.

A bright and fuzzy being, separate from Edmond and his guide, drifted by and through him, leaving a tail of white speckled light, like the tail of a comet. It, the spectral form of another dreamer, whispered nonsense and darted away at alarming speed, not bound to the mortal expectations of space and physical laws. Such beings lacked the awareness that Edmond now possessed. Unlike them, his body felt firm, warm, tangible, and solid.

Even though he sensed a degree of gravity, he ascertained that whatever ground he stood upon did not really exist, and peering down would trick his mind and produce a feeling of free falling panic.

The spider-eyed demon flew to his side and chuckled. "It won't be long now. We have but a little further to travel to ready your mind to meet death. Follow me."

Gankutsuou flew forward. Beneath and behind him a silver path emerged. Edmond willed himself to move and felt his feet connect with silt, sinking in slightly as the rocky grains shifted around his boots.

As they wandered, the empty mists took forms - first shapeless blobs and shimmering lights, and eventually bigger, more consistent patterns, until they took the appearance of rolling gray hills, dotted with ivory shrubbery. Flitting lights transformed into black carrion birds, hovering over prey before striking down and vanishing all together. The branches of nearby trees, white and pearly, seemed too smooth and fragile, as if made of glass, and the birds weightless - like paper.

He tried to focus on them, to see them clearly, but the act of centering his vision caused the hillsides to blur and shirk.

Time ticked by, and he journeyed down the path. It grew colder, harder to feel. As Edmond drew breath it became severe. The particles of water vapor froze within his throat and threatened to cut the vulnerable trachea. He exhaled little clouds, and slowly his hands stiffened. He flexed them, tucking them into pockets at his waist, and a familiar presence began to materialize in the distance.

The surroundings enhanced, growing vivid. Patches of snow covered the peaks of the hills, hiding in shadows. They looked like white giants huddled together, or like the legendary white burial mounds of Scotland.

The ivory-branched trees knotted, and textured wood overcame them, crisp against the backdrop of a clear sky. The surfaces alive, as if an unseen force carved into them, diminishing in their glass like appearance.

Eventually his fingers would not bend at will, and his feet felt heavier and pained. His shoes withered away, and wind swept over his flesh and dusted him with stinging snow. The more the world around him lived, the more his own body seemed to age and slow.

Edmond paused and shivered, hugging his arms into his sides tightly, for his pockets had vanished and his pant legs were shortening with each step. His lips parted to call for the demon to halt, but no words escaped. His tongue had grown heavy, and the saliva began to freeze within his mouth.

The bitter of the cold easily cut through any barrier, freezing through his skin and into his stomach, lungs, and bones. He shivered terribly, and dragged his feet forward, only to find that the snow became deeper, covering the plains of the hills, the path, and his now naked form.

Only with the strength of will to push him, he plunged forward. The demon, unburdened by the sensations, did not look back. Still, the snow grew in depth until each step required him to lift his leg high and lurch into the next unbroken bank. His skin was turning a shade of blue, which reminded him terribly of seven years ago. His heart slowed, and his muscles tired. They seemed to rebel against his every move.

A hopelessness filled him, yet he could not speak nor call out. The light ahead gave no warmth, and the trees and shrubs blended with the white of a frozen blanket, creating a bleak and barren picture. He gave up to the ground, drawn up and shivering for whatever warmth his body could generate. He was growing thin, as thin as he had been during the last hellish month in the Chateau D'if.

He closed his eyes tightly, and a whimper caught in his throat.

0-0-0-0

Albert beat on the door of Edmond's house for the third time. It was late, but he had promised to come back. If Baptistin had not insisted, even forced him to meet with Haydee before leaving their hotel room, he would have come much sooner. He bit his lower lip and pounded once more, stepping back to search for any sign of light or life within the windows, but nothing indicated the presence of anything living within.

With a disappointed groan he turned to walk down the path, he would have to return in the morning.

0-0-0-0

Edmond's eyes opened with effort, as he was aware of being lifted. Someone carried him forward, plucking him easily from the ground. He tilted his head back, and found the demon had returned for him, and was carrying him further into the cold. It was an odd act of kindness, abnormally helpful.

The demon's body produced no warmth, nor did it shield him from the aggravating light that fast approached them. Its brightness dissolved into the purple sky, which Edmond could not help but see now that his head hung back, so broken was his strength.

Gankutsuou walked on, and soon Edmond's body could no longer breath. He was only partly aware of the long and terrible journey towards death. When the movement stopped, Edmond's frozen body was laid into a bed of snow at the hem of a long and smoky cloak.

A tingling rattled consciousness into his skin, as the phenomenon of the death, the reaper, looked on him. He possessed an overwhelming presence, and a proclivity for obscurity.

He stood within a wooden boat, the nose of which curved up into the head of a dragon. It was on of many graceful features of the vessel, for interconnecting lines, twisting into knots, decorated the length of the wooden reptile's neck, down along the edges of the stern and upon its rails.

Death leaned on his scythe, grand and proud beside the green painted knots and red coloring of the wood. A bony hip protruded from the distribution of his weight, creating interesting diagonals throughout the folds of his cloak. In his hand he held a large leather bound book, and at his feet rested the all too bright lantern. With the grace of an expert warlord he swung the scythe round and snapped the lantern shut.

"Edmond Dantes, and Gankutsuou. This meeting is a bit early, you know." He tapped on an hourglass hanging from a woven green and black belt.

"He seeks guidance." Gankutsuou nodded down.

"That is not my purpose. I am the collector and the bringer, the only guidance I give is to the next life and death."

Gankutsuou glared with all of his many eyes. "You require that I act against my nature, and are not able to do so yourself?"

"I require nothing of you, only gave you tasks to fulfill before I granted your desire. You alone are unsatisfied with your nature, you alone wish to change it."

"He has traveled the frozen lands, experienced what it is to die in order to ask your help, and you can do nothing?"

"It is not my nature, not impossible." Death snorted.

"Then help! To who else are we to turn?"

"No, I am not a helper."

". . . you just said it was not impossible! So you choose to be difficult and cruel."

"Contumacious as ever, I see. My last interference was with a death, Gankutsuou, you are asking me to interfere with life. I may be capable, but doubt you really need me." Death contended.

"Then we came here for nothing."

"You did, perhaps. You are not ready, but as for Edmond? Well no part of life was lived 'for nothing.' What is death but incentive to appreciate life? What is pain but the means by which we know pleasure, fear but to know peace? All trials have a purpose. If you run from them," he looked pointedly at Edmond, "you learn nothing."

"That's it? Live? That's your advice?"

"Yes, and I am not surprised that the value of living makes no sense to one that never has. Go back now. He has what he needs and all I will give."


	11. Chapter 11

The morning's cheer brightens the streets, coaxing children outside to play. Warmth beams down without a cloud or breeze to bother it. Butterflies literally flit past my head and rest on beds of pink tulips, and trees, covered in splendid green, line the streets and bask in comfort. Spring blooms to the sound of birds singing. Signs of life leap out everywhere.

A horse, pulling a sleek buggy, rhythmically trots by me. Inside a young woman giggles with her friends. She's probably an aristocrat out for a ride in the countryside; only the rich can afford such extravagant and inefficient modes of transportation.

The city seems at ease and carefree, but I am apprehensive.

I walk to Edmond's house, hoping desperately to find him there. Yesterday's timing was awful. He's probably had second thoughts, or he thinks I have, since I never came back. I try to move my feet a little faster.

When I finally round the corner, coming upon his street, I feel ragged, and almost turn around. If he isn't there, what will I do?

0-0-0-0-0

For the first time, in a long time, Gankutsuou found himself wide-awake. A patient specter, he had waited years, and now his soul quivered. The boy approached, but that was Edmond's concern, not his. Something else drew near, something that would change their lives, and move them towards an answer. To what end or resolution he dared not guess, but, whatever the direction, it would be better than this day-to-day stagnation. He cast his eyes up, and grinned.

0-0-0-0-0

Relief momentarily clamors through me with joyous whoops, he's not only home but leaning against the frame of his front door, dressed in a simple shirt and tight blue pants. The feeling, however, instantly dwindles, for now I face the reality of discussing yesterday, and all the tomorrows ahead of us, if any.

He's distracted, staring at the sky, and does not react to me until I am standing in his yard. A mug steams in his hand. The liquid within smells both bitter and sweet.

With all my ability I try not to look nervous and force my voice to be steady, "Hi Edmond."

He stares at me with an ambiguous expression. I can't tell if he's angry or if he even knows I'm here, but I'm guessing angry, and start apologizing, "Look, I'm really sorry. I came back last night but you didn't answer the door. Something important came up and I couldn't get out of it. I'm really sorry."

His head nods, but otherwise he peers at me without sharing his thoughts. I should be used to Edmond staring at me, I think he does that when he's deciding what to say or do, but right now I feel scrutinized, awkward, and embarrassed. "Edmond?"

Wavy hair falls to the side as he tilts his head, making the line of his neck and jaw both visible and tantalizing, but I chastise myself for noticing something like that at a time like this.

"Albert?" And that's all he says.

Suppressing the shudder of my shoulders proves challenging, but I hold my ground and wait. He must be furious, and I wouldn't blame him. Eventually he steps back into the hallway, gesturing to me to follow. "Come in."

A bit relieved, I walk across the cobble stone path and cross over the threshold. His graceful hands set the cup down on an end table made of cherry wood.

"I don't know what else to say, I didn't mean to not show up."

There's a snap as the latch on the door clicks into place.

"If there's any way I can make it up to you I will."

He faces me.

"It won't happen again, "

A hand brushes the hair from my forehead. His touch is gentle, but his claw-like nails tickle my skin. I feel my cheeks glow, not something I'm proud of, but also not something I would to bother concealing.

"You aren't mad?" I plead.

"No."

"Then what's going on? You seem. . . off."

He kisses me, and everything inside of me hums. It's a tender, gentle, long kiss, unlike the ones we shared yesterday. When we part I'm a bit dazed, and confused, but thrilled. Honestly, I expected him to have prepared a speech about why yesterday was a big mistake, or how mismatched we are.

"Forgive me," he says, "I had an. . .interesting experience last night. But that's not what I wish to discuss with you." He pulls back, picks up his mug and walks to the kitchen.

0-0-0-0

Years ago, on the streets of Janina, the Count had approached her. Impossibly tall to such a small little girl, grave and daunting, he had terrified her. His overall appearance did not help: black with glittering flames upon his cuffs, and a top hat that extended his height even more. His blue skin and long hair made him distinct among the dirty streets and battle smudged soldiers. When she saw his mismatched eyes fixed upon her through the crowd, she panicked, for her days since the horrible death of her mother and father were a string of strangers poking, grabbing, hitting, or abusing her.

Some of them paid to 'test out' the other girls before dragging them onto fancy ships, leaving their homes behind to live as servants, or worse. Some of them paid extra, an event that always ended with Haydee or another slave cleaning up pools of blood from dark rooms.

She stepped back, slipping in a puddle of mud. Its slick and greasy waters splashed onto her legs and drab dress, bonding to skin and fabric with an aggressively thick consistency. The mud took hours to soak off, for it had mixed with the pollution from the Frenchmen's ships until it resembled glue or sap.

Janina was a broken and dirty city, wearing the scars of battle and failure on its ruined buildings and starving people. Once proud and cultured, her glorious and artistic race now resembled their former capitol city: putrid and shamed. Those women and girls who had escaped slavery watched as their men were dishonored or publicly slaughtered, and too many were reduced to selling whatever they had, body and soul, for a meal or vaccine.

The merchant, an ugly man with short and wild hair, dragged her back up to her feet, smacking her hard across the face for falling and disrupting the line. The once majestic heir to the throne let out a pathetic whimper, and the merchant raised his fist again to teach her silence.

But, the blow never landed. Her fate was never like those other girls on the block, and the only bondage she faced was of loyalty to a man consumed by hatred. However, even at his worst, he had placed her on the path of luxury, helping her regain her status, to find justice for her people, and her parents. He had done great things: made the poor and starving rich, and rooted out corruption.

He could have done so much more without his hate.

Haydee closed her eyes and drew a deep breath, waiting for the ship of Sister Jadea to arrive.

Edmond Dantes had, at his heart, always been a good man; never deserving the lot he'd drawn. If Gankutsuou lived, she would see him defeated and cast out once and for all.

0-0-0-0

Blackness stained the interior surface of the mug in rings, and the coffee had gone, by now, cold. Though he had not brought it to his lips in some time, Edmond grasped the white porcelain handle as one clings to a lifeline during a storm, barely moving, as if the fragile material would somehow ground him.

Albert sat opposite, running his fingers over the rough metal that framed the perimeter of the circular table, and tucked his other arm across stomach as one does when injured.

He shook his head, as if denying what he'd heard, "But. . . I've seen you eat, I just saw you drink, and you're up during the day." He did not make eye contact, and scratched at a bump in the metal's grainy surface, a flaw caused by too much exposure to air during the casting process.

"Well, I suppose it does depend on how you define vampire." Edmond answered, "Joining with Gankutsuou was much more intense when you and I first met, and my body showed more signs. However, I am no longer relying on him to keep me alive, or to give me power. I still feel the hunger, however, I do need blood. I'll let you decide if the semantics are right."

Something slammed next door, and a woman called out, yelling at her daughter to stop jumping down the stairs.

Edmond paused during the racket. He could see the young man shrinking and withdrawing, as if every sentence cemented a new brick in a wall between them.

"And here I thought we were going to discuss the difference in our ages, or something easy like that." Albert rubbed at the table a bit harder, as if trying to scratch the bump out of the metal. "So, you came back to teach Gankutsuou about humans."

"Not just that. I was also sent back to find redemption."

"And those flowers keep you from drinking blood." Albert nodded at a potted plant on the back porch. Its petals opened out to five points, like a star. Each was a rich color of a rosy purple and contained a single white stripe that ran down to a well of nectar, cupped within the flower's center. Two or three large and luscious buds grew on one stalk, and it stood happily out of a brown terracotta pot.

"Yes. They are very rare, and contain vital nutrients."

Albert took his time examining it, but a heaviness set upon his eyes and posture, and when he finally looked up, it was with effort. "So, Gankutsuou is still with you."

"Yes."

"And you agreed to this."

"I did."

"Even after what he made you do to me?"

Edmond frowned, "Albert, you may not like hearing this, but it is the truth: he didn't make me do anything. It was my plan, my idea, and my revenge. He merely gave me the means by which to complete it."

The weary eyes turned away, and Albert's body seemed to curve further inward. "But he encouraged you to hurt us, his evil twisted you, he wanted you to feel hate."

"He did not have to do much to accomplish that, Albert. Twenty years in the Chateau Di'f did most of the work."

"Have you been hiding from me because Gankutsuou is still around, and you're afraid he'll hurt people again?"

Edmond sighed and released the mug, moving his chair closer to that of the other man, taking his hand. "Gankutsuou did not hurt anyone. He watched, and waited. The wrongs that were done, the feelings that you have, the anger and the hurt: they are justified. But make no mistake; you should direct them at me. What was done was premeditated. No one controlled me. I made my own decisions. As a desperate man I accepted power from a demon, but I wielded it freely."

"Right." He answered flatly, "and was he watching yesterday?"

"No, he is able to fall into a deep slumber nearly at will. He gives me privacy when asked."

"Is he watching now?"

"No, he's focused on something else."

They locked eyes, briefly, before Albert pulled his hand away. Luster drained from his pallor, his forehead creased with wounded anguish, and his breathing all but stilled. "He really didn't do anything at all?"

"Well, he aided my plans, helped make them solid, and he enjoyed what I did."

"Did you enjoy it?"

The taller gentlemen stiffened slightly, "Are you sure you want to ask that question?"

"Yes." The reply was weak, but contained conviction.

He sat back, and looked away, "Yes, getting my revenge felt good. You must understand, those men didn't just steal my career, or freedom, or lover, those men destroyed everything I was and let me rot in my insanity without a trial, without giving me the dignity of knowing my crime. I lost my innocence, my hope, my faith, and my mind because of their greed. Did it feel good to take the same from them? Yes."

"But you hurt so many other people to get back at them, aren't you sorry at all?" His voice cracked, miserably.

"I am sorry it hurt innocent people, those who had nothing to do with their wickedness. I understand that my revenge stole from you, and your friends, many of the things that I lost. I did not expect to live through it, but now that I have, I would not deny any of you the same right to anger and vengeance. But rather than offer it, I thought the kindest thing to do was to stay away, to stay dead, and let you move on with your lives."

0-0-0-0

This is what I get for being a fool, for hoping, for loving him all these years. What did I really think? I knew, not even that deeply within myself, that Gankutsuou's was not the source of corruption or evil in Edmond. But when he came back, I wanted it to be easy. I lied to myself.

He was, and is, a sick and broken man. I knew that, and I deserve this to hurt as much as it does, for being naïve and stupid.

His house is the wrong setting for this. I want to stand on a brooding cliff with a churning ocean splashing its white foam against the rocky walls, the surf crawling up the jagged edges like fingers. A storm should be darkening the sky with ominous clouds, and lighting should rip through the peace with terrible groans of thunder. That is the right setting for a conversation like this. But it's not where we are. His house is picturesque, tasteful, and even lovely. Under my feet, the expertly laid mosaic gleams with little glass beads that reflect colored dots onto the ceiling. Edmond has always loved the arts, and culture.

He's sitting so close to me, I can smell faint cologne. It's intoxicating. But despite this unmistakable and inconvenient attraction, I cannot make myself look at him.

This has to be because of Gankutsuou. I'll admit I don't want it to be Edmond's fault, but Haydee's words stay with me. She said he controlled Edmond, that he changed the count. He could make Edmond lie to me right now.

Or maybe she's wrong. Maybe Haydee can't stand to see someone she idealized willingly giving himself to malice.

He's stopped talking, and waits. Both of our bodies tense, but I don't know what to say. I had forgiven him for all of this, assuming he felt bad for it, but to hear that on some level, on any level, he doesn't regret destroying my family, Eugenie's family, Valentine's family, and Franz. . . that hurts, that really hurts.

0-0-0-0

The fangs in Edmond's mouth created little creases under his bottom lip as he frowned. Death's advice, simple as it was, resounded in his mind: to live. He had spent so many years living for one thing, and without it he did naught but drift, and now his pain had passed onto Albert.

"This is not helping." He sighed, taking to his feet. "Why would it? I am sorry you and your friends were hurt, Albert, but I did what needed to be done. I cannot take that anger away nor change the past. This is why I did not seek you out; I did not wish to prolong your pain. It would have been better if we had not met again, what future is there from here? I'm twice your age, and almost married your mother! Even without my actions seven years ago, exactly how are we compatible? How is my presence going to help anyone other than giving you a target for your anger?"

"You're supposed to find redemption." Albert muttered.

"And if bearing your wrath is the way I'll find it, I'll do it gladly."

"Yeah, but loving me is just too damn much to ask for."

0-0-0-0-0

My response stunned him for a moment. He doesn't say anything, so I stand up, aware that I'm so close to his face that I seem aggressive. I don't care. "Sure, Edmond Dantes: happy to further revenge and pain, but when it comes to healing or love you're instantly ready to throw in the towel."

His face looks like I slapped him, he gets angry. Good.

"May I remind you that we barely know one another?" he protests, "And what we do know we learned from your childhood and lies? It's been seven years, you have changed, I have changed."

"Yeah," I don't let him start another sentence, jumping in instantly with my retort, "and I notice you don't ask me how I feel about you and mom, or your age, or any of that; instead you decide that we're not compatible, and that the only way to handle anger and hurt is fucking unhealthy revenge."

Icy would be too weak a word to describe the change in his demeanor. I have seen Edmond ablaze with rage, I have seen him in pain, I have seen him hate, but I have never seen him defensive before now.

He scoffs, and snarls "And transmitting hurt into infatuation is any better? You believe that pressuring me to love you, in an attempt to symbolically undue my actions, isn't channeling hurt in an equally unhealthy way?"

I shove him back away from me (or try, he doesn't budge) and start walking to the door, but since I may not speak to him again I want to say what I need to, 'I know I love you Edmond, and I don't need to justify it. Yeah you and my mom, together, is a creepy thought, but it's where we are. I can't help that I care for someone that my mother cared for. It happened, and I'm not going to second guess it. She doesn't care, I don't care, which means you're the only person who can't accept it. As to being younger than you, I'm not the first, and I won't be the last person who falls for someone older. Is it healthy? I'm not here to answer social questions. I don't care about how other people see it or what other people do. I know what I feel and understand what it could mean later down the road, so once again you're the one with the problem. If you're going to let stupid shit like that hold you back from being with me, you're an idiot."

"But I know you're not, not really. You're a strong, intelligent, cunning man who knows how to get what he wants, you're just afraid right now. And, before you say that I don't know you let me stop you there. I know that, generally, you're charming, rational, creative, and a natural leader. You love plants because they're beautiful, complex, and predictable, unlike people. You love opera and art because you appreciate beauty, hard work, and the way it captures the human condition. These two things embody something very fundamental about you; you both love and hate humanity. I think I do know you, too well for your tastes, and I think what you're afraid of is finding out that your revenge has left you empty. You don't want to face what it did to me, to Haydee, or Franz because it might mean you were wrong. Taking a hard look at your own life, your own condition, threatens you. Its why you're defensive right now."

I look back over my shoulder, he seems a little shocked, "You've stumbled into the classic problem with revenge, after it's over, there isn't anything left. You've got no drive, no plans, and no goals. Accomplishing that revenge is all you have, and if its wrong then all you know, and all you have, is also wrong. But you know, you could have had something more. You could have had me."

"I also know that really, your heart is soft, which is why you treated Haydee and Ali and the others with such kindness, and why your friends' betrayal and loosing mother drove you to such rage, and why when you were looking at me, seven years ago, you could not shoot me. It doesn't take long, looking around your home, to see that you haven't changed much, so yes – I love you, but I won't chase after you. I've done everything I can to know you better, but you have no interest in knowing me. I'm not going to pine for you. Let me know if you decide to stop being such a coward."

I turn around, and walk to the door, saying before I close it behind me, "Love, by the way, isn't selfish, and since you are still justifying ripping my life apart to make yourself feel better, it must not mean you care very much about me. Maybe that means you don't want my love, maybe you were randy yesterday, or I came on too strong and you pitied me, but I guess I'll know by what you do from now on."

I walk out the door, and I don't look back.


	12. Chapter 12

"Well." Gankutsuou gaped, "that went well."

"Shut up." The demand sounded feeble.

"Now, now, I was trying to mind my own business, but the sudden growth of a back bone does tend to grab one's attention."

"Tell me what to do."

The hesitated, thrown of by the request, "What do you want to do?"

"Please. . .I need help." Edmond leaned his forehead against a pillar; one of the two that stood parallel on either side of the entrance to his kitchen.

A spider darted past them, insignificant but quick, taking refuge in a crack on the wall. Its legs alternated, synchronized in a vigorous motion, like so many sewing machine needles jumping up and down when piercing cloth. Its round spherical abdomen drew out to a graceful point at the spinnerets, and a blue pattern of dots covered its otherwise black cephalothorax. With microscopic hooks on the end most point of its legs; it clung to tiny rivets in the wall, and scurried up, retreating to its web.

Gankutsuou watched with an acerbic expression, astral eyes able to slow down and analyze the creature's movements at atomic levels. Edmond, through their bond, could feel the workings of many large systems, such as those in a human body, but his perceptions fell short of the creature within in him. With the supernatural abilities common to his species, the demon could abrade size to see the movement of each spidery joint, the ganglia sending impulses into nerves, and the way its muscles stretched and pulled to propel it with such speed. He could feel the way its tiny body shoved molecules aside and glided on others to acquire friction, the vibrations as it ran across the floor, and its respiration causing movement in the air.

All this, and many other details equally as small, he explored within a few seconds. The turning of the planets held no mystery for him, he felt them, perceived fate, and yet when it came to humanity, to society, Gankutsuou understood nothing. "My friend, I am very good at achieving goals. I can manipulate events to whatever outcome you desire. However, I cannot tell you what you should do. The issue seems to have resolved. The bright soul is gone. I don't' understand why you would do anything now."

Edmond closed his eyes tightly.

"Or," his companion grumbled, "if it causes you such misery, you could always go after him. Far more important things will happen soon." The demons eyes rose heavenward, "I feel something coming. You might as well see to this distraction now. Let it stay resolved. That is my advice."

0-0-0-0-0

"He won't be coming."

I'm standing in the middle of a large woven rug, on a print of a goddess native to Janina's mythology. The printed kimono, wrapped around the deity beneath my feet, embodies a sunrise with bold daring lines, and her delicate hand half conceals her face with a mask of the moon. My father told me stories about her; she symbolizes both the living and the spiritual world, and rules both the harvest and dreams. Father took such pride in his knowledge of foreign countries, and loved to tell me stories from his tour in Janina.

Those were once fond memories. How eagerly I listened, asking dozens of questions, oblivious to his dishonor. When I look into the eyes of the goddess whose nation he ruined, it is hard to remember that he loved me, and I loved him. This has been a depressing day. Its not surprising I'm thinking of him now.

The orange and yellow of the kimono spread out across the floor in wide bands. They overshadow a delicate landscape of exquisite detail. The simplistic sun looks a little odd behind the dainty red dessert, for the traditional art style of Janina emphasizes striking and simple backgrounds against painfully perfect foregrounds. It can be a little jarring to one not accustom to such a visual composition. Nevertheless, studying the rug provides somewhere else to look, rather than into Haydee's disappointed eyes.

She is clearly not happy with my news, and sets her harp aside briskly. "Please explain, Albert. I thought we agreed this was important."

Attempting to maintain what is left of my privacy, I take pains to keep my face and voice neutral, and shrug. "We do agree, and if I could drag him here I would. However, I can't bring Edmond to meet Mademoiselle Jadea because I walked out on him this morning."

"Why?" She places a hand over her chest, concerned.

"Please don't make me live it again." I loose my composure, and something about how I say it, or maybe how I'm standing impresses my desperation upon her. She doesn't push for more of an answer.

"I see. Can you at least tell me whether you have verified that Gankutsuou still exists?"

Naturally, I hesitate in sharing something that was said in confidence. I'm still not sure how much Gankutsuou may be influencing Edmond, whether or not I can believe him, and I'm not sure where he begins and the other ends. However, if there is any chance that Gankutsuou is evil and using Edmond, he should be stopped. All I have is Edmond's word, and frankly, that doesn't feel like much right now. "Yes, he's 'alive,' if that's the right word. Edmond doesn't seem to think he has much influence over him now, or that he never did, but I don't know."

"Edmond Dantes was a good man. He was seduced by a demon and lusted after revenge." Haydee whispered quietly. "He could never see what Gankutsou did to him, and the demon must be stopped. I suppose Mademosielle Jadea and I could go to him, or corner him somewhere, but we must confront the demon."

"I think that might be dangerous." I mumble.

"We used to serve Edmond, and Gankutsuou," Baptistin interjected from his spot by the window. "You don't need to tell us he's dangerous. They were good at winning loyalty, so much that we were all convinced he was right…for a while."

"And," Haydee interjects, "There's a good chance we're saving Edmond from Gankutsuou. This is for the best, we must force this meeting."

I'm less than convinced, but have few real options. They continue building a plan, and as I sense myself becoming less and less a part of it, now that I am not a tool for accessing Edmond, I quietly excuse myself and return to my hotel, hoping that everything will be alright. Nevertheless, I cannot clear the nagging sensation of dread from my throat.

0-0-0-0

Several miles away, across the ocean, the Forbin made rest in a strange little bay surrounded by large and black staggering cliffs. They drew into points, like the jagged edges of a broken mirror, and formed a semi circle of solid rock, with one opening leading to the ocean. Cain stood at the nose of his vessel, beneath the Nike, which stood windswept on the bowsprit. He spat into the watery depths, over the bow. Something had been following them.

Several crewmen had reported a seeing a form in the distance, always behind, always disappearing in the fog. Some claimed it was a very distant ship, and others simply stated they had seen a figure.

The crew was spooked, and so they had made temporary harbor within the bay for its strategic advantages. A few of his men had taken up camp on some of the more stable ledges of cliff face, ready to signal should anything follow them through.

Someone approached from behind, stepping lightly and carefully. He glanced back to the figure, blonde hair poking out from beneath her large round hat.

"It isn't coming for us." She murmured. "The cards say it wants Adnet."

Cain swallowed, but hid his discomfort well. "Really Marietta, this is not time for your magic nonsense." He spoke loudly to dissuade any overhearing ears from concern. More quietly he whispered, "The crew thinks you've got a gift to see beyond. If you start in on this claptrap now they'll panic."

"It's neither nonsense, nor claptrap, Captain."

It wasn't, and he knew it. Wherever her intuition came from, she had it, and Cain was too wise a man to disregard a valuable resource when at his disposal. He stepped closer, "I know. What should we do?"

She gestured to his stateroom, and once inside she pushed a pile of books aside and off the table, producing her cards. She shuffled them with a crisp snapping sound.

Before laying them out she hesitated, resting a hand on the edge of the deck, "Months ago, we were nearly destroyed. Do you remember?"

"How could I forget?"

"Our instruments, on the space vessel, suggested that a star would explode within our quadrant, and we had no time to correct our course. But the star's patterns corrected themselves, and nothing came of it. Micha, the engineer, insisted that the instruments had not malfunctioned, that they had not been wrong."

"What other explanation could there be though? He's a great crew member, but everyone makes mistakes." Cain sat down in his chair, sitting on his carelessly strew pajamas rather than moving them.

Marietta frowned, sliding the cards out in one long line. "I don't know what it was, but just as our instruments pulled down the data, something ignited in Adnet. There was a tremendous burst of energy from within him, though he remained completely still, and the star was quiet. The cards kept pointing to the devil man. I don't know what it means, but I do know that whatever is following us wants Adnet. Pick six cards."

Cain reached out a hand, and pulled the six, turning them over in succession. The first, as she had suspected, was the devil. The Captain's hand first stilled and then dropped the card.

"So you think Adnet…"

"Something within Adnet saved us that day, and as you can see" she pointed to the cards, "judgment and the hanged man, there is soon to be atonement. The two of swords is next as is the page of swords, the devil has employed deception, gone unseen. The magician follows, this means the influence of an intelligent figure, one who is also tricky, hides in shadows, sees within, and knows much. In their layout, Cain, I know it means the devil is revealed. This shadowy individual is looking for him."

The chair beneath the heavyset man creaked as he leaned back and sighed. "So, advise me about what I should be doing. I can't lead this thing to Adnet, but we can't avoid Le Val forever! It's our home!"

"It is very close, and very dark. I feel a hunger. We must put in port, and send word to Adnet before returning to Le Val. At least we can give him a chance to prepare."

"We're only three days from home, a message would reach him, at best, a day before our arrival."

"We can delay, spend an extra night in port perhaps, but it's better than nothing."

0-0-0-0

Edmond fidgeted slightly, looking down into the brewing pot. He was stewing his last batch of pills; the one that would have to last until his next set of flowers bloomed. As long as nothing went wrong, and he did not expend too much energy, he would be fine. However, it was not the short supply on which he focused.

He had not gone after Albert. His mind insisted he'd made the right decision. Their age and strange circumstances aside, Gankutsuo was restless, and seemed convinced something tremendously important was about to happen.

However, his heart had excellent arguments. What difference did age make when vampirism entered the picture? And Albert knew his past, and seemed to still want him, so why should Edmond shy away? He had felt so torn with anxiety and shame in the presence of the lad, but also…eager.

Of course was vampirism and shame not more of a reason to avoid the boy? Would it not injure anyone he loved to grow old while he stayed young?

Edmond groaned in frustration and collapsed into a chair. Nothing he could think of justified putting Albert into possible danger. Until he knew what approached he dared not make a move.

And yet…he could barely stand still.

His heart, so strong and willful, so patient and practiced at waiting for exactly the right moment, could not stop yearning. He had experienced so much pain because of love, and had made so many cruel decisions in an attempt to heal, was all of this simply fear of once again being vulnerable to another human being?

The impatience and growing irritation of the demon within him did nothing to quiet his mind, and he felt his soul shambled.

0-0-0-0

There is a knock on my door, a heavy decisive knock. I'm in the middle of dinner, but I have had a meager appetite at best. In all honesty I expect to see Baptistin or Bertuccio with news of a plan, and I toss my napkin to the side of my plate quickly and dash across the room as to not keep them waiting.

It is neither Baptistin, nor Bertuccio.

Edmond, but not Edmond, stands at my door. His face is concealed in the glowing dusk of the demon, purple eyes masking his features. His hands are alight, and he seems even taller, and menacing. A suffocating starving energy emanates from him, and he swoops in, shadowing over me like a vulture.

I recoil, and he speaks. His voice is not Edmond's. It echoes with an otherworldly quality, deeper, callous. "Good evening, Albert."

The air around him is heavy, and even seems to move in waves or pulses, visible but not. I continue backing away, and he walks into the room and kicks the door shut, all six eyes fixed upon me. He manages the motion without moving his shoulders or torso, like some kind of unsettling wooden man.

"I have come to resolve this ridiculous mess."

The hotel room table prevents me from backing up any further. He crosses, standing too close to me, leaning in to peer at me with his top set of eyes. His posture is hard, angry, dangerous, and he moves towards me like a predator. I close my eyes and wince.

He is quiet for a moment, and grabs my arm. "What's wrong with you?"

I close my eyes tighter and hold my breath, terrified.

"Albert." He shakes me. "Look at me you fool."

I cannot bring myself to do so.

"Humans…Albert, Edmond is a mess and I am to busy for this drivel. Something is coming, and I am too week to fight it off. I need him focused. I need his aid. However, you and your ridiculous human need to pair bond has completely ruined him, so I came to fix it."

…my brain is not working well right now "What?"

"I have come to mediate."

"You…have come to mediate."

"Yes."

I open my eyes. His expression has not changed. He's staring at me, eyes unblinking, unmoving, glowing. I open my mouth and nothing comes out.

"You two want to 'be together' so do it. There. Fixed. Now we can move on with our lives."

I feel confused, shocked, and otherwise bewildered, but I do manage a thought, "Did Edmond ask you to do this? Is this to somehow prove that you're not completely evil?"

He hesitates, and cocks his head. It is the first time that that ridged and predatory frame has broken posture. "That word suggests I am bound my your conceptions of right and wrong, even that I can understand them, which would also imply that my role in this universe is similar to a humans. It is not. Nevertheless, I do this of my own free will. Edmond is, however, aware that I am here. He's not happy about it, but I told him it was important and would decide the fate of the universe."

"It will?" I'm even more confused.

"No. I lied. I don't know what's coming, but it probably won't impact the whole universe. It will, however, decide something important, and before I can get that taken care of, I need this human emotional twaddle resolved."

"You lied."

"Yes."

"So, you are not above deceiving and controlling him against his will."

"If I could force any behavior upon him I would. However, that was never the nature of our agreement nor can I force an agreement upon a living creature."

"You lie, and you are corrupt." I hiss and wriggle out of his grasp, sliding along the table and pointing my back at the door. "Why should I believe anything you say?"

He turns, like a creature possessed might turn, without shudder of body, his whole frame seems to spin in place, as if there was a spindle in his heals. Rather than answer from there, he steps too close again, so that our faces are inches apart. I assume he is trying to intimidate me, but instead he merely answers, "Well, I would not."

This throws me, and my voice shakes a little in my anger, "You are responsible for everything that happened to my friends, and to me. It is your fault entirely. And now you want to 'mediate.' Edmond and I are the way we are because of you, so maybe you should just pay for your mistakes."

"That is incorrect. I did not start the string of events. I made a deal with a man who had already decided to destroy others."

"You gave him the ability to do it! Without you it never would have happened."

"Without me he would still be sitting in a dungeon, or would perhaps be dead. I gave him the means. I will give means to anyone who makes an appealing deal with me. That is what my kind do. Would you prefer he had never found his justice?"

"…I would prefer he had found it without destroying so many innocent lives."

"This is how things are. You say you love him. So love him despite his choices, forgive him, or forget him."

I frown, and try to gain some space to no avail, but I do feel bolder. Perhaps this demon truly wishes to talk, and nothing more for now. "I can forgive those who take accountability for their actions, rather than hide away and pretend they are someone else. Perhaps I could forgive him in the right circumstances, but why should I forgive you?"

"I don't want your forgiveness. I don't need it. However, I feel Edmond, on some level, wants atonement for both of us, and he and I are here on a deal with death. You tell me Albert, why should I be sorry for disrupting the lives of a few meager humans when the rest of the universe spins on at such greater magnitude?"

"Because," I admit it takes me a minute to come up with a good answer, but he waits for me to speak, "pain is real, and you helped spread so much pain. How can you speak of justice in one moment, and ignore those damaged in the quest for it?"

"Justice, or rather revenge, was Edmond's goal. Not mine."

"So what is your goal then?"

"To be human."

My mouth hangs open with the shier audacity of the notion. The sun has set, and only a few lanterns light the room. They flicker in the increasing dark, as if laughing at him with me. "Why?" I manage, half disgusted 'why would you want to be something that is so unimportant in your eyes?"

"I have seen real importance, Albert. I can feel time and energy move. Simplicity is…. attractive. Feeling is attractive."

"But, you are belittling of humanity, you're insulting of that simplicity! How can you want to feel when you cause so much pain…unless…you genuinely don't understand?"

"I do not cause the pain. I give humans the means to accomplish their goals in return for attractive boons. They are not always like Edmonds…although recently they have been, because that is the sort of person who is willing to give up their body entirely to get what they want."

I rub my eyes; feeling conflicted. It does not change what he did, nor somehow make it any better, but I don't know how to process this. What kind of a creature is he then, what exactly is he supposed to do, and is he doing it or not? Something is wrong with all of this, there is so much I don't' know.

Questions flood my mind, but before I can ask even one another knock comes frantically to the door, and Haydee's voice entreats me from the other side to open it.


	13. Chapter 13

My mind is in a whirlwind. Within the cavity of my now aching chest my heart pumps furiously, my breath quickens, and my palms sweat. Despite the activity within me, I'm frozen, not knowing what to do or how to react.

Gankutsuou takes one look at me, and the sensation of being at the center of a spotlight consumes me momentarily. The glance is terribly fleeting, but he cocks his head, and then takes stride to the door meaningfully. I let out a pathetic little 'No!' but it is slow and quiet, and exits my mouth as his arm is already pulling back.

The air in the room flushes out of the open door, rushing towards my visitors as if is pushed by his energy. Haydee and Baptistin recoil, she covers her face with her sleeve and backs away.

"We're busy." He says in his low and dangerous voice.

There is one figure standing staunchly firm and unwavering. She is a small woman, wrinkled and dressed in brown woven shawls. There are feathers braided into her hair, and her plump body is hunched. She squints up at him, less than half the count's size, and sniffs.

I can only guess this is Madam Jadea. She puts a hand out, and touches Edmond's stomach, as far up as she can reach, though it is glowing with the marks of a demon.

0-0-0-0

"So, here is fate once more. You are the being causing such a clamor."

There was an additional voice in Edmond's head. Though they had no mental awareness of whom or from where. In fact, their vision of the world had vanished, as if they had blinked and opened their eyes up out of body. Both Edmond and Gankutsuou found themselves floating in empty white space, suspended as if on theatrical wires.

As they adjusted to the change they gradually became increasingly aware, like being rendered on a blank page. Though they could not see her (they had no mental construct of her appearance) they could feel her. Unlike her small and benign body of Madam Jadea, she was immense. She seemed to take up the entire space, both within and without them, though she existed not at all.

"Greetings Gankutsuou," She murmured, her words conveying homage and respect, "I have heard many things about you. And of you as well, Edmond Dantes. Your friend speaks highly of you. I suspected I might find you here."

At this point in their journey, nothing surprised Edmond anymore, and he was able to surrender to the process, letting the feeling of Jadea wash into and around him, inspecting him, speaking to his very soul. However, he did wonder, "What friend?" The answer came to him without speaking, without response from Jadea. Death. She had spoken to death.

The demon, juxtaposed to him, began to squirm, anger obviously building, rage at this display of power, and the need to overwhelm and consume it.

"Forgive me." She muttered quietly. "I mean no insult by containing you here, and will restore you immediately. However, Gankutsuou, I have culled both your minds to mine in order to speak privately. If you will it, we may exchange our information, and go our separate ways."

This managed to relax Gankutsuou, his interest peaked, and turned his eyes on Edmond, as if seeking confirmation that they both had any interest in continuing the conversation. Not sure what sort of sign he might give, Edmond shrugged.

With their consent a black line appeared in the white before them. It wriggled and twisted, grew and widened, taking on the form, eventually, of a simple black inking of Jadea, as she must have been when she was young. Her hair was longer, black and stunning, and it fell to her waist. The features of her face and posture how contained youth and life, strong and wild.

She reached out one manicured hand, and blew a soft whistle. Crows and ravens flew to her, becoming a gown of feathers to embrace and cover her nakedness.

She gleamed and shimmered, though there was no actual light source, and small rainbows caught in the textures of her form.

"I shall not waste your time. I dreamt several nights ago, of two men treading through snow piles, walking through the lands of ravens and carrion birds, making the perilous journey to Death's domain. As I watched their journey, I learned much. You two have a great purpose, and you needed a guide, one that Death cannot be. When I woke, I received a summons from my queen to join her on Earth, taking no delay in my journey. My queen called me for what she described as a mighty exorcism, but I suspected I would find the two souls I had seen bearing through the frozen lands."

Gankutsuou moved as if to speak, but she held her hand up, requesting silence as she continued.

"Gankutsuou, you are the lord of caves and undying, of desire and conquest, that which goes unseen and undisturbed. You are restless, and you crave the living. Thus, when you first saw man you crawled from your dark places, and began to travel with them, eventually learning to inhabit them, and when your souls meet, and your own form possesses theirs: creating the vampire. You are mighty, but you sense the approach of something stranger still than yourself."

The demon glittered, as Jadea had, his purple mingling with pinks and deeper reds as if responding to her words, literally glimmering for a succinct but obvious moment. Edmond had a thought, that they were communicating both outwardly and silently, that perhaps Gankutsuou was knowing things as inexplicably as he was, as if Jadea could speak both to and within each of them.

Jadea turned, her attention becoming hermetic, impenetrable, and focused. "Edmond, you were sent by death to journey with the demon, to learn and teach, and to grow. But, Death is wise, and sees beyond time. His gift to you was not merely for an experiment or compassion. As Gankutsuou learned, so too can the demons of the darkness. They are the byproducts of man's evils: their hates, and their cruelty. Gankutsuou is the child of never ending hunger, of greed, and of desire. He seeks to fill his need with human flesh, and so be redeemed and released from never ending torment, though he himself may not know that truth. Many of the others are not so inclined. Destruction, hate, and war make terrible creatures, and one of them has learned of you. It knows only the defecation and defacing of humanity: a child of war crimes, humiliation, and shame. It is coming to destroy Gankutsuou, to take his power. We can not allow such a thing."

She swept forward, close to the both of them, grabbing Edmond's human brown hand, and Gankutsuou's purple incorporeal one. "I was given the sight, and prepared from a child to help you, to guide you to what you are meant to be. Work with me, and we will find your path."

Just like that, the white was gone, and the room had returned.

0-0-0-0-0

Jadea withdraws her hand, as quickly as she placed it upon Edmond's torso. I'm convinced Gankutsuou is going to burst, attack, scream, or do something. Instead he goes very still, blinks a few of his eyes, and then simply disappears. Well, disappears might not be the right word. He vanishes within Edmond, leaving his counterpart standing still and careful at the door.

Haydee squeals with delight, "You did it Jadea!" Her refinement melts away and she runs forward to hug the older woman.

I examine Edmond, he looks startled, but the same as ever. His teeth are still pointed; he still has markings on his flesh. Nothing seems to have changed.

With all the quickness of an aging woman she gently pushes her queen from her and bows low, "Forgive me my queen, but I have done nothing. I am unable to fulfill your request. The demon must remain where he is."

The room seems suddenly tense. Edmond still looks a shocked and is looking around as if to get his bearings. Baptistin has a hand on his sword, not tightly as one ready to actually draw it, but as if he just wants to know it's nearby. Haydee has her hands up, close to her breasts, as if she is making ready to deflect a blow.

Her beautiful, delicate lips manage only a quivering, "what?"

"There is more working here than demonic possession. I must remain with them, we have much to do."

"I don't understand." She whispers.

"Come with me, my dear. I will explain. Monsieru Dantes, we have a few days to prepare. Go home, pack for a few days. We will choose our battleground tomorrow. For now, rest."

The little woman ushers Haydee and Baptistin out the door, and I am left with Edmond, alone, in the dark. I look at him, anxious, confused, and concerned. His eyes are there, waiting for mine. I have no idea how long her may have been studying me, and embarrassment jumps at the chance to join my already tumultuous feelings.

I immediately notice his strength, and the way the v-neck of his shirt stands open where the laces have come loose. But, it is his expression that damages. He is so hard for me to read, generally, but there is no question of that now: vulnerability, hurt, fear, and bewilderment. Within a single moment he demonstrates all of this, though I am not at all sure what part of those feelings relates to me.

I want to ask about what Jadea had to say, what Gankutsuou had told me before she arrived. I wanted to hit him, to kiss him, to hate, and to love him. However, all I manage is, "Battleground?"


	14. Chapter 14

Thank you to my loyal readers. I know it must suck waiting for me to update! I've got no excuses now, and am setting aside on day a week to write. ;) Feel free to spam me if I get lazy again. –

Explaining his experiences seemed impossible, but far better than standing in an awkward aching silence. Edmond found that, though he had no words for much of his psychic conversation with Jadea, he was able to express the more important points. There was something on the way that wanted to absorb Gankutsuou, and she seemed to think it was worth her time to stop it.

Albert fidgeted when he mentioned the alter ego, and quickly shut the still open door. He proceeded to turn on lights, igniting the wicks of a few candles; the evening had grown quite dark out.

"She said it's on the way, whatever it is." Edmond almost whispers, finishing his story quickly and without much detail.

Albert seemed disturbed, struggling with something internally. He sat down at the table, staring at the flickering flames, and saying nothing. Of course, there was much for him to find unsettling, and much to process from the previous days. He shook his head, rubbing his eyes with open palms.

"So what now? Gankutsuou shows up at my door, telling me we should just go ahead and be together, before a random old lady hijacks my hotel room to give you some shamanistic trans-quest thing. What the hell is going on?"

Edmond didn't respond. It didn't really sound as though Albert wanted an answer; rather, he was expressing years of frustration and helplessness. The shadows splashed chaotically on the floor, made long as only fire can make them. The room was spacious, though not lavish, and felt comfortable and lived in. However, the growing and shrinking shades managed to make the interior somewhat menacing, oppressive, or panicked.

"I'm supposed to forgive or forget you. Like it's that simple." He looked up desperately, eyes rimmed with tears. "You're a fucking ass hole."

Scents of shampoo, soap, cologne musk, and candle fire clung to the air, contained and potent, as are the smells of someone new - changing a space with their presence. Slowly, the current tenant was enmeshing himself unintentionally into the comforter and carpets, amplified by his unpacked clothes strewn carelessly, but not uncontrolled, over the dresser and luggage nearby.

"How am I supposed to forgive someone who isn't even sorry they hurt me? How can I forgive someone who tortured my family, held a gun to my head, tried to kill me, and succeeded in killing my best friend!" His hands balled into fists, and his voice rose to a dangerous pitch, but within that same moment he broke apart, and his hands grasped at a paper napkin, shredding it with each word. "What am I supposed to do about loving you, seeing the good, having always seen it…"

Edmond sighed, a sultry sound, and ran his finely sharpened claws through his hair. "You were right. Albert" The back of his skull thumped very softly against the door. "You were right about what you said this morning, not all of it, but enough. If you don't care about my age, and my time with your mother, than why should I? And, after all, if I'm a vampire, what does it matter now…I'm not that man, and I'm essentially ageless." He shrugged, "those were never the issues, not really. My revenge was perfectly planned. I wasn't supposed to live afterwards - I knew there would be nothing left. It didn't matter, because Gankutsuou would be the one living. I have no drive, no goals. I was willing to pay for my sins in whatever hell might exist, I wasn't prepared to live with them, nor to face those left behind."

His dark eyes closed, and he winced, letting his body push against the door and slide to the floor. "I slipped into a less than extraordinary life, as if doing so would take away all the pain, all the hurt my life has been, and caused. Death sent me back for atonement. He said I had happiness within my grasp and pushed it away. He meant you, and the family I had made. But the thought of facing you or Haydee, managed to steal me to silence. I ran from you, a coward – as you put it. I was hiding from you, even from the fact that I was hiding at all, that I felt anything for you. However," he opened his eyes once more, to meet those of the younger man, "though we have been years apart and are well changed, you were wrong about my not bothering to know you. I had to: to manipulate you I needed to predict you, and to do that - to know you innately. That was the only hole in my plan. In knowing you, I loved you, and could not look into your eyes and harm you."

The rough carpet felt reassuring under his fingertips, and he tugged lightly at it, subtly though, as to not betray the actual intensity of emotional response. Albert's reactions were muted as well, each of them difficult for the other to read, guarded, and careful.

"I wanted to know you once more, Albert, but what I've said is true. It has been seven years, and we are each different. I am a vampire, apparently with responsibilities that I did not even know of, a demon whom I must teach, and am no closer to resolving my actions as right or wrong than I was seven years ago. Things are complicated, and the last intention I had was of hurting you further, yet I find myself inextricably linked to your pain. I hurt you with my honesty, and I hurt you with my fallacies. "

0-0-0-0

There is a pang in my stomach as I hear him tell me the truth. Yes, I want him to beg me for forgiveness; and he was right about what he'd said this morning as well - I think part of me might want to symbolically undo the pain in having him love me. There is probably something in me seeking validation in his arms. But I have, and do, genuinely love, respect, and care for him.

My anger feels less now, and I'm able to cross the room and kneel on the floor beside him.

"Edmond, you don't seem to want me out of your life, and I know I love you. I want to know you, everything – the good and the bad – and I want to accept it for what it is. I know that might take me some time, but it's true."

I can feel the ends of my teeth pressing into my lip as I bite down, nervous. Nevertheless, I force myself to continue. "It sounds like you have some important things to do, and soon. We don't know how that is going to turn out. So, why don't we take Gankutsuou's advice?" It is still a little difficult to say his name, but I'm growing used to it. "If we want to be together, let's try it. We can talk about things as we sort them out together. All I ask is you keep talking with me, being honest, and I'll do the same. We don't have a lot of time to waste, and if something happened, I would rather have spent tonight learning more about you, and caring for you, than regretting how things happened all over again."

I can see his hand tugging nervously at a loose bit of thread on the floor. It's endearing. My hand covers his, and squeezes. He asks me about Franz, about what he would want, if he would be angry. I choose to hear, or perhaps I really do, a bit of guilt and remorse. All I can say is I'm sure he understands now, and that he told me to live and live honestly. I'm not going to waste his sacrifice by being afraid to live now.

Something about what I say seems to strike a cord with him. He agrees. He actually agrees. His hand cups my face, and we kiss, slowly, meaningfully, as if to savor every second. There is relief, as well as trepidation in the meeting of our lips, but I set it aside and intentionally focus on the taste of him, of the feel of him, and drink him in as fully as possible.

We talk deep into the night. I hang on his every word. We learn new things, old things, satisfying, and inspiring things. Most things I like, and it seems he does to. He makes me laugh; and likewise he smiles small grins that show laughter bubbling under a stern surface. I cry, fretting about old pains, he holds me and pets my hair, sending shivers along my neck. Some things I am finally able to release, and perhaps forgive.

Later we make love, and I sear the feel of his weight pressing against mine into memory.

He moans at my touches, arches into my experimentations, and I absolutely melt into the safety of his body. We fondle and hold one another: grinding, groping, and groaning. His honey brown body holds me down, engulfs me, and I find myself both frightened and excited by his power, and the burning need he whispers to me. He's hard, I can feel it as he moves against me, hands grabbing my ass and pulling me close. He wants me near, quicker, and desperately. The wants he whispers, the desperations he demands – throwing off my clothes, biting somewhat harshly, soothing the bite marks of freshly bare flesh with kisses and humming.

I grow bolder, straddling him and placing my knees onto his arms to hold him down. I make him watch as I touch myself, staring him down, whispering his name. He grows steadily harder and arches, and, encouraged, I begin to slink backwards, licking and testing his body as I go. Eventually, teasingly, I kiss or lick his inner thighs, along the line of his pelvic bones, to his shaft, and balls. I try to mimic the oral pleasures I prefer, and I take one of his balls into my mouth and suck. He almost gasps, stifling it, holding onto a measure of control, and something strange and empowering pumps through my veins. He is beautiful in the candles' light, illuminated and shadowed as they leap and dance. I wrap my own hand around his member, and attempt to imitate the thrusting pace of his hips.

That is where he looses it, and I am flooded with gratification as he flips me, roughly, growls into my ear and mounts me from behind.

When he enters me I cry out a little, and kisses the back of my neck and shoulders, urging me to rock slowly and gently against him. I etch the feel of the fabric under my hands and knees into my mind, seeking any detail, any tidbit I can to hold onto forever. I suppose I don't really trust that this is real yet, that he will be there in the morning: won't change his mind and disappear.

His smooth fingers explore my body, and I submit and croon to his administrations. Edmond's skin is soft; his muscles strong and fluid, his fangs ridged as they graze my sensitive skin. When he comes into me, it's warm and ecstatic, furious, and thrilling. It brings me close, but my own pleasure comes later - into his mouth, beside carefully contained and skillfully maneuvered sharp teeth. His hands wrapping around my penis, the thrust of his powerful frame against mine, the way he gently but intentionally pins me against the bed, every detail an important note I keep within me.

Afterwards, when I can think and see again, I sleep with my head on his chest, covered in a diminutive sheen of sweat and after glow. He mutters, "I love you" as he is almost asleep, and I wonder if he actually meant to say it, but I kiss his chest, and echo him.

When I wake in the morning I have turned away and am facing the wall. For a moment I panic, for this is where reality comes back to life. My mind is sure he will be gone, and it takes me five minutes to work up the courage and turn over.

But, he is there, in the bed, sleeping soundly.


	15. Chapter 15

Thank you thank you thank you to my new Beta, Tieden! You did a wonderful job!

Authors Note: Hey all. So at last you get my interpretation of what Gankutsuou is. I feel the anime left this open for our own consideration, so I hope you enjoy my imaginings. :P

We're wrapping this story up now. I think a few more chapters ought to do it. Thank you all for reading.

0-0-0-0-0

On my way to Edmond's abode, I walk down the residential street of Le Val, where the houses are nestled together as if they were all carved from the same block. He is walking beside me, deep within his own thoughts.

The sun is new in the morning sky, making our shadows long thin lines. His hand dangles at his side, and I contemplate taking it, but things feel a little awkward, not uncomfortable or unnatural, but new. I don't know the rules of our relationship yet (if I can call it such a thing at this point), and I'm far too anxious about overstepping boundaries to take such a risk.

We reach the little path that leads up to his door, the stones lined on either side by attractive plants. Vines stretch up over the face of his stucco home, clambering over the red curved bricks of the roof. It's a charming site, and somehow it fits everything I know about him. He fumbles with a key, opens the door, and disappears inside.

I'm well aware of an old man glaring at me from across the street, muttering to himself about inconsiderate neighbors, and I blush.

While Edmond gathers his things, and makes a call on the next-door neighbor about watering the seeds he's planted, I notice a piece of paper tucked beneath the mat. I retrieve it for him, and when he reads it his face falls, and a blue and grey shade engulfs the street as a cloud momentarily blocks out the light.

"What does it say?" I ask.

He shuts the door, grabbing a bag and hoisting it over his shoulder. "The Forbin is making port in two days-time. Captain says they're being followed by something, and they have reason to believe it wants me."

"So, we know how it will come." Jadea's voice pipes up from the street, where she had managed to approach us unobtrusively. "Good. I have sent my mistress to the moon for the time being. She wanted you both to know of her protests, however. Her royal highness wanted to be here to support you, and sends word that she is willing to trust in my judgment concerning your…special situation."

I'm glad she's being subtle. I doubt Edmond wants the entire neighborhood to know about Gankutsuou, and I've drawn enough attention to him during the last week.

"Shall we?" the elderly lady asked. And without another word, she shuffled away.

I keep my peace for about ten minutes, but as we are heading away from the town, and away from the docks, I can't help but ask where we are going.

Her feathered head shook, and she motions for silence, telling me only that I will know all shortly.

0-0-0-0-0

Tucked within the cliff sides of Le Val, a network of caves intertwined and embraced beneath the surface of the rock shoreline. Like miniature mountains, they half surrounded the city, keeping watch over the cove. A volcanic eruption formed them beneath the ocean in ancient times, and since then the salt water polished and smoothed their once rough faces. Buried within the wall, if one had such inclination, chunks of seashells and porous igneous rock waited to surface, easy enough to chip out with chisel and hammer.

The slippery darkness of the cave prevented most visitors from venturing deep within. A perilous journey, yes, but other forces kept most at bay. The villagers could not tell you what, or why. Perhaps the stories of the elders had taken root in their minds, frightening them as children, taking life and logic as adults. Perhaps they possessed an instinctive aversion to the place, simply feeling the power as an ominous foreboding. For whatever reason they unanimously agreed the caves were off: haunted, or inhabited by legendary heroes and sprites, such as Gradlon or Magotine.

One way or another, most people steered clear of the caves, and as they plunged within, Edmond felt the hairs on the neck stand straight.

Albert, having worried the old woman would fall on a slick rock, carried Madam Jadea's pack. A lantern hung from a brown belt at the side, giving them some light as they left the late afternoon sunshine for the cool damp tunnels.

As they traveled, Jadea would stop, make a clear marking pointing in their direction, and continue. "No point in waiting any longer then we have to." She would mutter before padding along down another steep hill.

For such an old woman she moved with agility and grace, only asking for a hand to get down some of the more perilous drops.

They walked for hours, to the point their feet and backs ached. As they hiked down into the belly of the caves, Edmond felt something strange within him. His body began to glow, not with the markings of the demon, but with the same strange light. The creature within him took great breaths and seemed to attain fantastic alertness. He felt the power hum through his body, beat within his veins, as if every blood vessel found itself coated by the demon; enhanced, aggressive, and treacherous.

The brightness of his body dwarfed that of the lantern, and Jadea extinguished the flame, which now looked sickly in comparison to the blaze emanating from Edmond's being.

"We go no further." She announced, indicating to Albert that he should place her pack on a nearby rock, which he did gratefully and gingerly.

"What's happening to Edmond?"

She rummaged in the outer most pockets, producing items of strange effect: sage, salt, red dust, and even full cloves of garlic. These she cast around the room in a circle, building up a perfect little mound of white on the blackened floor. Behind the pile of herbs she placed polychromatic stones and figurines, many of them adorned with animal heads, horns, or with bodies almost human but never completely so.

At the place most near Edmond she left an opening, turning to him once she had lit the flames of four candles. "There are places of great power in this world. We stand at the threshold of such a place. The creature within you is of a different race, an astral one. They lived before our species, beings of pure energy, capable of changing stars and moving fate. They helped form the world, lived and coexisted in harmony, creatures of feeling – without thought, or language."

She walked to Albert, opening her pack to reveal camping gear. She asked him to help her lay it out, and continued her story. "When man came, they explored the world, and found the places where the astral beings came and went. We have always known that these places had some special property. We built monuments, shrines, and created stories to explain them. The fey under the hills in Ireland, the obelisks and pyramids of Egypt, the cathedrals of your France, many of these monuments mark such sites of power. Not only on Earth, of course. Such beings also immerged on Janina, bearing the reflection of our people."

Albert hesitated in laying out a sleeping roll, feeling a shiver go down his spine as something within Edmond pulsed. There seemed a danger, something animalistic about him now, frightening and raw; almost wriggling. When he looked up he found Edmond staring at him, and something unsettling stirred in his expression.

Jadea stepped between them, closer to Albert reassuring him by squeezing his shoulder. "When exposed to man, these creatures evolved. They gather the knowledge and awareness of all they see, and change. Man's mind, our ability to think and to reason, makes us different then the creatures they met before. Animals as we might be, our minds and language give us the power to create great evil, or great good. Our power polluted the minds of Gankutsous' kind, giving them language, thought, planning, and plotting. Some linked with man as benevolent figures, adopting delusion - becoming man's gods or angels. However, those first exposed to great fear, greed, or pain became what we call demons."

She turned her gaze upon the creature writhing within Edmond. He was growing frantic, as if embraced in trance at the overflowing energy around him. She looked through the host, seeing past skin and flesh, drawing him to her attention slowly and methodically. "By your nature and the way you interact with human kind, I think you, Gankutsuou, must have been a creature of great energy: the cavern king, born in the thermal energy of this world, taking refuge in the places close to the burning core of the world. Unfortunately, when you met man they were certainly fearful, hungry, lost, and probably dying. You became the incarnation of hunger, of greed, of survival. You crave resources, feeling, and life. However, as you have traveled within mankind, that hunger transformed. Rather than merely seeking to consume without end, you subconsciously seek to heal the pain. You seek fulfillment. You are seeking satiation. As your host meets his own needs you grow closer to healing those wounds, to adopting his balance and energy. This is your journey, stretched out before you, one that has no guide, and that time will reveal."

If her words reached the demon, there was no indication. His mind reveled in her voice, in the sensation, in the power around him as an infant fixates on light or shapes.

She continued, apparently satisfied that he would understand on some level, "The creature stalking you, however, is one of domination and war. Undoing the hurt of that being will take a compassion and power greater than that within you."

She placed a hand on Edmond's face, swept away the beads of sweat, and forced the hungry stare away from Albert and to her own resolute expression. "If brought back to these places, the nature of these creatures rises, and they can be sealed back from where they came. We must seal this creature away, or he will dominate and destroy you. Instinctively you found your host, a host that could change your nature with his will. While you hungered and craved, Edmond waited. His self-control and powerful mind will change you, balance you, and show you those parts of humanity that elude you. But neither of you will survive if this being goes unchecked."

Edmond's breath cracked as he struggled to suppress the drives within him. He wanted desperately to pin Albert and have his way, to rip his clothing of and take his need in him again and again, and drink of his blood, bring in his life force, to absorb him, know him, and consume him. These feelings, he knew, originated from the vampire life form within him, but he ached within their reality. She was right, however, his will power and self-control held the demon back. He held on, loving and protecting the younger man. So, this is why death had sent him back. He had over powered the demons tremendous power by loving Albert before, he could do so again, they could change each other, and they could heal. It made such simple sense.

However, this place changed the rules. Here the demon's nonplused raged and his spirit literally clawed for freedom. The sheer force of Gankutsou had multiplied, the momentum of his desires speeding towards destruction like a meteor falling through the atmosphere to bedrock.

Jadea pushed him gently towards the herbs. "You must enter the circle. I can contain you, and the demons within it. If your will and balance prevails, and you can weaken him, I will send the creature back to the void. There are more, and they will come in time. It is Gankutsou's duty, as the cavern king, to bring them back to the caves a schisms in the world, and heal them, or seal them away until their time comes."

"He is weak." Edmond managed to gasp, "Stronger here, yes, but he spent his energy saving my ship and crew. I don't think we can manage battling with another demon at full strength right now."

"I know." She whispered, "but right now he is all we have."

0-0-0-0

My heart is aching. I can't stand this. Jadea has completed the circle with him inside, and I am sitting on my sleeping bag with my knees tucked up to my chin.

He is thrashing, and moaning. Some of his clothing is torn, and he has marks on his skin from places where he has scraped on the floor. The light is growing brighter, and with every passing moment I see more of Gankusuou and less of Edmond. At times it seems Edmond has even grown another pair of eyes that will pear up at me, not like the shimmering purple eyes that signify the demon is present, but litteraly another pair of human eyes. I wonder if this means they are integrating more completely, blurring the lines between where one begins and the other ends.

From time to time he grips his head and cries out. He'll scream things like: 'no,' or 'I won't hurt him,' and I know he's talking about me.

I think Edmond sensed this lurked within him, on some level he knew this out of control hunger existed. I think perhaps he avoided me, and hid to protect me. I think he was genuinely afraid of facing me, but for more reasons than he realized.

Jadea has assured me Gankutsou could not leave the circle, and that I'm safe as long as I stay out here. A few times I try to walk forward, to comfort him, to reach out and do something – anything, but she tells me if I step inside I won't be able to come back out, and I'm sure those fangs are for more than aesthetics. Besides, I'm not sure what I could do. If I draw closer Edmond wails, and my presence at this distance seems enough to torture him.

I have no idea how much time has passed. He is in so much pain, and I am completely helpless. When I find myself crying, as silently as possible, Ganktusuou's voice coos to me, calls me and tells me I'm beautiful, telling me he wants to drink me in and let me fill him.

It's unsettling, to say the least, and yet I cannot hate him. So much of our experiences make sense now. He was drawn to Edmond because of the holes in Edmond's heart. Edmond ached and hungered, as he did. They flailed out to fill that hunger, to fill the voids within them, seeking easy answers that appealed to the nature of broken men...and demons.

Everything Edmond did to my family was fueled by the hunger; his own. Gankutsuou could not be blamed for that. Edmond was afraid of hurting, and afraid of pain. He sealed away his humanity, and thus acted inhumanly. Yes, what he did to me was cruel, and it still ached within me.

But, I understand him. I understand both of them. They wanted to heal, just as they do, though they have no idea how. And, as I watch them suffer on the ground, moaning my name, I realize how much of my pain, how much of my hurt they have carried and felt. Franz did not die for someone's revenge. He died as a savor, to me, and the two beings struggling for their hearts. That…would make him happy.

My father was the sort of man who could have twisted pure creatures into demons. He helped twist Edmond. If what Jadea says is true, than the tragedy I experienced had a purpose. My mother always said the key to surviving suffering is to find meaning. She may be right. This meaning eases the ache.

Edmond goes calm for a moment, only one, and looks to me. I sense within him a man who is facing fate, possibly to disappear, and speaks his peace.

"I love you." He says it simply, honestly, and falls back to his torment before I can respond or process what he said.

I know he loves me. I always knew…the evidence was there. My heart, my love saved him from his own revenge. I saved the human from consuming agony, as Franz saved me.

So, I think, in that light, while I can never forget the hurt, I know better what they were seven years ago, and what they are now. And, I think, part of me is ready to forgive the demon.

As soon as the realization strikes me, a blackness from the tunnel behind us dwarfs the room, pushing back the light, as a glowing red figure steps slowly, zombie like into our cave.


	16. Chapter 16

Albert….what is it to be human? What is it, to be what you are?

The smell in the room is rancid, I have only smelled it once before – it is the decay of flesh.

When I was a child we went to the beach. There was a sea lion, rotting. It had been dead for weeks. Flies zipped around it crawling into and out of his flesh.

Are we built to be in pain, love….Albert, why do we bother existing this way? Humanity hurts.

As the creature enters, I can feel something change. Our minds are not far enough apart. We are in and around; there are no boundaries between our thoughts, as if they are broadcasting over a speaker at a ballpark.

Gods…I am so hungry.

It is red, as if on fire. It does not speak, and it does not look at me. When it makes a noise I hear gun shots, screams, explosions, sobbing, pain….so much pain. Its flesh is burnt, half of its face hangs off of bone, its naked genitals bleed and ooze puss. There are infants crying….or is it me?

The air is hot, humid. I feel rain, snow, ash, and sun on my skin in the cold empty cavern. This thing bends at awkward broken angles, and an armada of ships attacks us, for ten horrible minutes we are evading cannon balls. Jadea is rocking in the corner, chanting.

The armada is destroyed in a flurry of shredded wood and bodies; they decay, fetid, withering from flesh, to bone, and to dust. Overhead there are awful planes and mechanisms of war. Missiles fall on us, we hear them whistle and we cannot move.

It opens its mouth. Franz, and my father die again. I vomit, seeing the smile on my friends face fade, and his eyes turn cold. My father's lifeless body, like a doll or some awful stuffed creature, no longer him, dead - gone.

It opens its mouth. Edmond's father starves to death. He shrieks in rage, and his body is emaciated. They are starving together, bound by the same awful fate. He looses his life, everything, himself, his sanity, in darkness - in another man's hate.

I am starving. There is a hollow awful ache, a terrible dizziness, and I feel nothing but a burning in my body.

When it enters the ring, the purple face of the count lights up in several sets of dangerous eyes. His writhing stops, and a creature climbs up in Edmond, with his body, and the form of a spider encases him. It bellows my name, it bellows for my sex, my body, my blood, and my soul, yet it does not look at me.

The being of war, and of destruction stumbles forward, clawing at him. The cavern king strikes back, a bolt of blinding white and purple energy slices up and through the creature. It knocks me back, and holds me down.

Beneath me the ground becomes a bed of nails, there are hands all over me, ripping at me, violating me. I feel the heat and pain, and the desire in the room as these two opposing forces struggle for dominance.

As Gantkutsuo is released, and the spider takes the form of an old god like demon my mind snaps, and I cannot longer understand what I'm seeing. Am I looking into space? Is that a nebula, or a man? There is so much beyond it; an infinity of darkness, of emptiness, and loneliness. We have come to the end of all things, and I think I can hear nightmares singing.

They exchange blows that I can barely follow. Stars and killing other stars, engulfing them and imploding, abstract things are entwining and biting and clawing. There is so much blood, and yet that blood is not in this room.

In the panic, the frantic battle (the one I cannot be sure is taking place) I think of Edmond, of my mother, and I close my eyes. Who am I but a mortal, tossed around by fate and forces larger then myself?

The room is awful. This is hell, if any hell does exist…it is created by the deeds of man, by what we do with the gifts we carry, when we pervert pure entities, and ourselves, in cruelty and aggression.

I have learned forgiveness, and great compassion. These are the entities born of a humanity that does not recognize itself. They bleed for us, because we bleed. Pain should never be forced to live without peace.

I weep, not out of the fear or horror, though those feelings do course through me. I weep, though not because I hear my ancestors begging me to live, but because this is who they are, this is what they are, they do not have the privilege of painless sleep.

I have been a spoiled, selfish child. My life has not been hard.

We are so hungry. We need it all, and we cannot share.

0-0-0-0

The lines blurred between Edmond and Gankutsuou, enmeshing them into one entity: a thing both human, and not. Through Edmond the demon king experienced light and love, things he had never known, and Edmond saw the workings of the stars. Their purple flesh, no longer cold, responded as they urged it to, for Albert, and for much more.

The war demon seemed barely conscious, far gone in its nature, over stuffed and filled by the shier amount of human destruction. It came from a human world, brimming with conflict, where humans had forgotten how to be humane. No world should see such wars as those the Earth has seen.

Yet, in their unity, they lacked the fundamental understanding. Closer then ever before, the journey would not end here. Gankutsou was tired, worn out from an act of compassion, and he did not yet possess the capacity for another act of compassion now.

So they battled, and it became obvious that the battle was futile. Though they raged on with heart and might, he grew ever weaker with every moving star and the force of energy. Edmond felt himself slipping into a terribly familiar starvation, and his legs buckled.

A sound of rage to match the screaming, Gankutsuou lashed out, but with every blow the demon grew larger, and its cries louder. One cannot end war by fighting.

0-0-0-0

I can see what is happening, and I can feel all this pain. The circle is cracking, and I can see Jadea fading slowly away.

Her eyes meet mine, and she smiles, nodding.

"It is time to give my mantel to another." She says gently. "We are tired of being human, and ready for the next."

A large beautiful black raven seems to fly out of her soul, two entities are born, the bird and a very old woman. They crack, fracture, embrace in happy tears. Then, they fade.

My throat strangles a cry for her and I manage to roll onto my hands and knees. Without another breath the circle crashes down, and the force of the dueling demons shoves me against the cave wall.

I touch the wall, and Gankutsuou shudders.

I am so hungry; I can hear his voice, weak and small.

"Edmond!" I scream, "Edmond let me help you!"

The sound of my voice turns both sets of eyes on me. But they do not stop their fighting. I cry out, begging them to stop, but they either do not hear me – or they do not care.

I look at the poor beast, the poor war beaten disgusting repulsive beast. My stomach threatens to lurch again; I am tempted to condemn it. But something in me cries for it, and eventually I cry openly.

Through the noise, and it is extremely raucous, there are so many things I can not hear, and so many sounds blending together. Yet, I beckon to the creature. "It does not have to be this way! You don't have to be this forever. We can stop the wars! If this world saw you! If we could make everyone understand! You don't have to be this anymore!"

The war creature shrieks and Gankutsuou falls to the ground, spent. It means to kill him.

And, somehow, I know it will not be allowed to kill Edmond.

Edmond, could be free.

0-0-0-0

Gankutsuou looked up to his demise. There was no coming back from this kind of death. It would be the end. Why had he agreed to this? What strange curiosity and flawed emotion had formed within him to justify this battle?

Ah….Albert's voice….and the way Edmond's heart beat.

So….

Human.

He closed his eyes and smiled.

0-0-0-0

Albert found himself suddenly able to move, as if something new found within him had broken free, a will – a desire - a design.

Edmond knew it well, that moment, for him, had come in the Château D'if.

The boy flew forward, stood between the two demons with heroic resolve, hands out stretched like a martyr.

Concern for his lovers filled him, and protectively the older man grabbed at him, the blow that landed on the small, delicate, human frame knocked him back several feet in a flash of blinding red and yellow, smoke, and billowing energy.


	17. Chapter 17

The three of us are on the floor of the cavern, and yet I can feel the demon of war – it is much closer then that. Our minds have connected, and I can feel the burning of his flesh smoldering within me. Gankutsuou's hand, in Edmond's body, is on my ankle, and it takes me a long moment to realize what has happened.

Jadea is gone, and the Cavern Kind and his host, my lover, they are both laying, panting near me. The war demon sleeps within me.

"What have you done?" Edmond's voice asks, though he does not speak to me.

"His compassion…" the demon rasps, still through Edmond's mouth, "don't you see….that's what it needed. He is willing to die to stop the fighting….He always was…that is what it needs. He can heal him, as you are healing me."

Edmond looks dumbfounded, and starved, as if he cannot rise.

My body is aching and bruised, but I pull myself to them, brushing my fingers through their hair, not caring if I am touching Edmond or the Gankutsuou. "You're dying." I realize this with a wave of fear.

The demon, not Edmond, raises his hand up to touch my cheek. He hovers there for a moment, taking in the feel of my skin, and finally answers, "Just me."

"Is there nothing we can do?"

The demon chuckles, but looks as if he might faint.

"He needs to feed." Edmond informs me, simply. "We need to feed."

I understand the intention behind his words and I nod. "Then do so."

There is no hesitation, no struggle or qualm of morality as one might expect. They accept what I offer with the urgency of a starving animal. With the invitation Edmond and the demon grab me, roughly, but carefully, and fangs sink into my flesh at the base of my neck.

It is, at first, an awful sensation, like being stabbed with enormous needles. I cry out, and wrap my arms around them, either to hold them for comfort or shove them off – I am not sure which.

A hand braces the back of my head, caressing my hair tenderly, and they hum gently, encouraging me to relax.

The tattered material of his pants, and the thick broad muscles therein brush against my most sensitive parts in their grip. Pleasure warms me, intensified by the anguish at my neck. At my whimper the demon rumbles with glee, pulls me tightly against their body, and begins to apply pressure with decided intent, angling their hips into a long slow grind.

They take gratification and strength in me, and grind against me with the soul intent of bringing similar sensations, unselfishly seeking the small mewls and groans I can't hold back.

I grow hard against them; feel the thrill of their erection behind their pants, and my mind soars with a high as my blood rushes to two very different locations. The drain from my neck eases, and is replaced by tiny nips and kisses. The tight embrace eases and hands travel down and explore my body for several minutes.

Soon after their feeding is done they seem stronger, and (though I am not) they make quick work of my clothing. Their glorious, warm, silk mouth wraps around one of my balls and they suck. A powerful jolt propels a cry from my mouth, followed by a moan I barely recognize as they then slid their tongue around the pert head of my penis. I can do little more than accept the administrations with a tired but avid excitement.

For a moment my mind frets about where we are, and I wonder if this is disrespectful to this space, or Jadea, and yet somehow an act of love seems most honorable in the awful wake of all this pain. I give in to what I want…Besides, there is something incredibly kinky in the thought that the same mouth was coated in my blood moments ago…though I would never have supposed such a thing before. Perhaps that is the demon within me…or perhaps I am learning something new about myself.

The finger at my entrance forces my mind to return to the man between my legs. He has managed to push his pants lower, though I'm not entirely sure when since he was sucking, licking, and essentially driving me crazy this whole time.

Pebbles at my back pinch and scratch my back, but they are easy to ignore as a hand replaces his mouth in administering rhythmic pulses to my penis, and his own throbbing member is pushed deep into my wet and ready puckered flesh.

We buck and pulse, writhe and murmur to each other. When we come, it is very close together, and followed by a deep and passionate kiss. My dazed mind wonders, briefly, if it has all been a dream.

When they pull back, both entities brush their lips over mine, and I am struck dumb by how much I can love…the two beings…looking back at me. I don't really know when it happened…perhaps now I understand – they are only sort of different people now, as I am only sort of separate from the creature within me.

They kiss me, both of them, and ecstasy races through my body. Yet, I have taken something of a beating, and the sensation is my last shred of consciousness before I fall asleep in the arms of my demon man.

0-0-0-0

I dream. I dream of the thing inside of me. It is already soothed, not healed completely, but softer then it was…more human. The burning on its flesh has become a terrible scar, and its joints have popped back into place, though it shudders with the pain of it. Its hands appear covered in red liquid, and a fire burns in its eyes.

It shakes, as if always on the edge of control, a living armory of dominance and murder.

"Your name?" It demands more then it asks.

"Albert."

"We are one now." It notes, looking me over with inquisition in its body language. We are standing in a tomb, I think, or perhaps a memorial wall has encased us. The names of solders are etched into it, alternately blinking as light scrolls over them.

More names are adding to the walls as each moment passes.

"You…changed me."

"I think Gankutsou did, actually." I mumble, finding that my legs will not move and I can neither walk nor sit.

There is a strange look to this air, as if it is about to become fog.

"No, he just let me in…something about you has changed me….a little. I fell, and I feel – both less, and more."

The demon looks at his hands in great curiosity, and runs a long awful tongue down them. His eyes find me again, sees that I am disgusted, and grins. "I have had many names, in many cultures. You may call me Blitzkrieg. You have done me a service, and I think you will again. I will come, if you call. But, if you call, I cannot promise to do more then my nature entails."

I nod, somehow I understand it all. "And, if you have need of me, I will come to you as well, Blitzkrieg."

He looks startled, but grins.

0-0-0-0

The dream ends, and I wake. I am in Edmond's bed, and my lover lying beside me. He is propped up on a set of pillows, reading a book. I cannot see any sign of Gankutsuou on his person, yet a newfound awareness assures me that he is there.

Edmond, with his milk chocolate skin and dashing set of eyes flashes a grin at me, and I feel weak, though not now from genuine weakness. In fact my body feels entirely refreshed.

He is upon me in moments, kissing my cheeks, neck, and lips. He lingers longest on the last, his soft pliable flesh tracing the outline of my own pink panting mouth.

I grin. There is time enough for explanations later. Jadea is gone, and I sense that in some way Edmond and I will take her place. I know, there has been a purpose in all this, and somewhere a god of death is please. These things, I can inexplicably feel. I know we will live as long together, and that this is not the end. There is much more healing to do.

But, having no wish to discuss these points now, nor how he managed to bring me all the way to his home, I edge closer to Edmond, encouraging his kisses with my own. I am feeling, much -much stronger, as if I could bend steal, but instead I gently play a hand under his shirt and over a set of nipples as I straddle him.

He has left me shirtless, in only a pair of clean slacks, and his hand traces up my naked back to feel my sides and spine. A sharp intake of breath passes his lips as his flesh touches mine, and we make love, again and again.

-the end-

Thank you all so much for reading. I had a lot of fun playing with the story and characters, and bringing in my own imagination. I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it….maybe someday I'll go back and fix all the typos, but at this moment I am just pleased to have finished it.

Thanks again for all your encouragement and reviews, and have a wonderful day!


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